


on purpose!

by crushculture (candybeat)



Series: an inquiry on love [2]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Mentioned Huening Kai, Summer Vacation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a travel guide cooking guide and dating guide all in one, prime choi line shenanigans, secret otp: yeonjun/food, the sequel to the cruel summer 70k beomjun fic, the trials and tribulations of choi yeonjun saying i love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 104,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybeat/pseuds/crushculture
Summary: Two weeks in Daegu with Beomgyu.They’ve been looking forward to it all summer. Just the other night, Beomgyu had chatted his ear off about all the things he wants to show him, all the restaurants he was going to take him to, and how Yeonjun won’t be able to talk shit about Daegu anymore. Like Yeonjun could anyway—he can’t say anything bad about a city that gave him Beomgyu.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun
Series: an inquiry on love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053632
Comments: 42
Kudos: 252





	1. dawn

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone! 
> 
> the long-awaited sequel to 'do flightless birds dream of flying too?" is finally here. 
> 
> to be honest, it almost didn't make it here. i've never doubted myself so much, never felt like shit about writing so much, never wanted to throw a piece of work in a trash can so much. this started out as a fun little side piece as to the larger work this follows and it grew and unfurled into something of a monster. at first i did it for you, the reader. because you gave me so much love and i wanted to please. but if you are the start, then i am the end. 
> 
> and in the end, i finished this for me. to the me, who will someday forget every word i wrote in this, hey! you once thought you'd never finish this. and you once thought your writing was so shitty you almost deleted every thing you ever wrote. i hope you feel better about your writing now. i wonder what you'll think of this. how you'll feel about love. because in a way, this is a love letter to yourself and a picture of you. i know you'll cringe reading this author's note, but swallow the embarrassment for me. i hope you have fun reading this. i think it's kind of good. 
> 
> to my friends, you know who you all are! thank you for the constant encouragements. my frail ego would have already crumbled if not for you all. a special mention to gab, i almost gave up on this, but you made me realize that there's a story here that only i can tell. 
> 
> to everyone else, i'll see you on the other side.

It’s been a cruel summer. 

Yeonjun loves a good sunny day, but it’s different when the heat feels more like a blaze than anything else. And it’s even worse, because it’s August now—it’s always the hottest right at the tail-end of the season. Spring is a season that kindly gives in, but summer is flashy in its hesitance to leave. 

Yeonjun shouldn’t complain so much. He lives in the dance academy for the majority of the day. The studio has air conditioning, and by the time he leaves, the sun is already sinking down and giving way to the night. He accompanies his evening walks home with a cool popsicle he usually buys at the convenience store. He says hi to a couple stray cats that loiter around his block. And to end the day, he typically congratulates himself for finishing a hard day by listening to “You Did Well Today” by Oksang Dalbit. 

It’s not a bad summer, Yeonjun knows, but as he does his walk home tonight, he can’t help but wish it’d stop dragging its legs and go. This has been the longest summer of his life. 

It’s long for a multitude of reasons. It’s been nine weeks of balancing being both a teacher and student at his dance academy, of living for the weekends where he actually has free time to enjoy himself, and of dating his boyfriend who lives too many hours away from him. 

Okay, if Yeonjun’s being honest, it’s really only that last part. It’s his first time doing long-distance and he’s not used to it. He doesn’t think he ever will—which is fine; the distance isn’t permanent anyway. But yeah, it’s been hard. 

Yeonjun knows he’s partly to blame for it too. He hates how he didn’t realize his feelings until the very last second—the last day of Cherry Blossom season, the last two to three weeks of the semester, Beomgyu on the verge of moving on. They barely had time to spend with each other before being pulled away by the bittersweet reality of summer break. After that, they were together only during scheduled Facetime calls or weekend dates in some random train stop in South Korea. Don’t get him wrong, he cherishes those precious moments, even if it always feels like they’re running against time. 

It’s not enough (it never is) and it’s not the same as when they were practice dating. It’s just not. 

He knows what Beomgyu would say if he ever heard Yeonjun cursing their bad timing. 

_Hyung_ , he’d say with the cutest pout in the world, _it all works out because we’re together now_. 

And then Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to say anything, because Beomgyu is, first and foremost, right. And because Beomgyu would then get this glimmering far-away look in his eyes, like he’s reliving the whole journey it took to get them together, and Yeonjun has to then kiss him to bring him back to the present. To bring them _both_ back. 

It’s been months, Yeonjun knows, but it feels just like yesterday, just like moments ago. He thinks a part of him is still standing in that frat house, watching Beomgyu run away from him. He knows that people experience life-altering events around them all the time, but has anyone so keenly felt the world reterraform itself right before their very eyes? 

_I love you,_ Beomgyu had said then, but it sounded so much like regret, like shame, like a terrible diagnosis that the doctor had told Beomgyu suddenly. 

And later, on that bench in front of the mermaid fountain he’d wished on his freshman year, Beomgyu had said _I love you_ then too, and this time it was said with grace, with wonder, with acceptance. He didn’t say it then, but it sounded so much like goodbye, like it’ll be hard but he’ll survive him. _You won’t lose me_ , he promised, but it felt like loss all the same. 

It was the way Beomgyu had gently given his hand back to him, the feeling of a hand slipping away—Yeonjun can picture it clearly, even in his dreams. He should stop thinking about it, but sometimes, when he spends too long away from Beomgyu, he can’t help but unearth the feeling. Turn it over in his hands, until he’d memorized its weight and form, until he’s learned enough to know what he needs to do to never experience it again. 

He’s not sure if he’s figured out how to do that yet. But he will—trust him. Just not now. 

For all his complaining of how long this summer has been, he’s now finally getting to the best part of it. He’s just finished his last week at the dance academy (and what a long week of filming dance routines, rushing through lessons, and completing tedious administrative tasks it has been). This means he’s free for the rest of summer and free to go on the vacation he’s long been ready for. 

Two weeks in Daegu with Beomgyu. 

They’ve been looking forward to it all summer. Just the other night, Beomgyu had chatted his ear off about all the things he wants to show him, all the restaurants he was going to take him to, and how Yeonjun won’t be able to talk shit about Daegu anymore. Like Yeonjun could anyway—he can’t say anything bad about a city that gave him Beomgyu.

Yeonjun takes the earliest train out of Seoul. 

He kind of hates himself for it. He had to set three alarms because he knows himself; the first one is needed for priming his brain for the idea that he needs to get up. The second one is there as the real wake up call, and the third one is for when he royally fucks up and has to run all the way to the train station to make it. By his will alone, he manages to get himself ready to go by the second alarm and he finds himself having to turn off the third alarm at the station. 

Being awake this early in the morning has its costs. He’s bleary-eyed and barely awake as he drags his suitcase towards the right platform. He almost gets on the wrong train and he had to apologize profusely to a man whose foot he ran over with his suitcase’s wheels. Briefly, he considers buying some coffee when he passes by a cafe and the smell of it tempts him. 

He doesn’t though. 

Besides, taking the earliest train has its benefits too. The first is that the sooner he leaves Seoul the earlier he’ll be in Daegu and have Beomgyu in his arms. The second is the one he takes advantage of now—settling in his seat, plugging his headphones in, and knocking the fuck out. It’s a two and half hour train ride to get to his destination and Yeonjun spends all of that in sweet, sweet sleep. The benefit is this: when he wakes up, he feels like he’s time travelled straight to where he wants to be. 

He grabs his suitcase from the overhead compartment, makes sure he doesn’t leave anything in his seat, and exits out of the train to a nice warm morning. The sun’s out but it doesn’t hurt to be under it, just enough that every ray feels like a gentle touch of heat. 

He lets out a yawn as he comes to a stop just outside of the train station. He pulls out his phone and checks if the two hooligans picking him up actually got up in time to do so. He presses the call icon on Beomgyu’s contact and within three rings, he answers. But when the voice comes through, it’s not Beomgyu that he hears. 

Instead, he hears Soobin’s sleepy voice going, “Yo, yo, yo.” 

“Where are you?” Yeonjun says in lieu of a greeting. “Please tell me you guys have left the house.” 

“I’m currently fearing for my life, thanks for asking. Beomgyu is breaking all sorts of traffic laws for you so I answered for him. Are you still on the train?” 

Yeonjun moves past Soobin’s dramatics. He’s not awake enough to entertain them. “I’m outside waiting already.” 

“Oh god,” he hears Soobin mutter and then a sort of muffled yelling comes through the connection, _ya, step on it, he’s here already_ , and it dawns on Yeonjun that Soobin might not have been kidding about the numerous violations of traffic laws. “Hey, it’s fine. Take your time. I’m fine waiting as long as you guys get me breakfast after.” 

Yeonjun hears them arguing and he doesn’t know where they get the energy from. He hears Soobin sigh, “We were going to get breakfast either way. We figured you’d be hungry. If we’re not there in five minutes, we’re dead. Please call emergency services.” 

“I’ll see you guys soon?” Yeonjun says unsurely, but all he gets in response is Soobin hanging up, leaving him to stare at his own face as the screen goes dark. He sends out a half-hearted prayer to whoever is listening and chooses to take his surroundings in instead. 

There aren't that many people out just yet, though he’s sure it’ll be teeming with people soon enough. Train stations are always busy, filled with people who come and go. When Yeonjun had been younger, he loved to sit in the train next to his parents and look wide-eyed at the people around him. There were all sorts of them, from all walks of life and came in different shapes and sizes. Everybody took the train after all. Yeonjun liked to imagine all the places they could possibly go and maybe even all the people they were to become. 

He often tugged at his mother’s hand and told her all about what he thought. The man who sat in front of him who lugged around a bouquet of flowers must be on his way for a date. The grandmother with a bright orange hat must have been ready for a party. Oh, Yeonjun had all sorts of thoughts and his mother listened so patiently to each and every one of them. 

She’d often say, _is that so, my love?_ and Yeonjun would nod with a seriousness too large for his tiny frame to wear. She would laugh then, patting his hair, and she’d always do this curious thing— turning the question back to him, _what about you? Where do you think you’re going?_

It’s funny. She said the same thing to him last night as he was hurriedly packing. Hands on her hips in the doorway of his bedroom. 

Yeonjun had pouted, “Omma, stop teasing. I’m going to end up forgetting something, because I got distracted.” 

Yeonjun had been attempting to fold and refold his clothes for the past ten minutes, and his suitcase refused to be shut. He tried taking out a couple items here and there, but then he’d think about how it would ruin a potential outfit he had planned. He needed each piece. 

“I’m just saying,” She had said, not even bothering to hide her amusement as she moved to kneel beside him. “Considering how much you’re packing right now, it feels like I’m not going to see you for months.” 

“Omma,” Yeonjun clutched her arm and rested his head on his shoulder, “Please help? You’re so much better at this.” 

“Look at you, buttering me up like this as if I can say no to you,” She reached up to ruffle his hair before starting to take everything out of his suitcase and organize it from scratch. Yeonjun laughed, pleased, rubbing his head against her shoulder like he was still a child. She hums, “So when are you bringing him home to us?” 

“Omma!” Yeonjun pulled away, embarrassed at her question. 

“What?” She laughed while rolling a pair of jeans. “You’re meeting your future-in-laws this early in the relationship but you won’t introduce him to me?” 

“I know it’s early, but I couldn’t say no. It would be so awkward to go there for two weeks, hang around his house, and not have a proper dinner with them,” Yeonjun reasoned. It was how he had justified it to himself too. It was unavoidable. He tried hard not to think about the other reason (how impossible it is to say no to a Beomgyu who asked with so much hope in his hesitance). “It’s casual.” 

“Ah,” His mother said in turn, putting on a casual air, tucking in folded shirts one after the other. “Is that why you thought long and hard about what to give them? Even asking me to go shopping with you so you could pick a very nice and expensive gift to impress them with?” 

Yeonjun felt caught. He played with the zipper of his suitcase as she paused her packing to pinch his cheek, “You don’t have to lie to me. You’re clearly serious about him. Are you not?” 

“I am,” Yeonjun admitted. Because it’s true—he is very serious about Beomgyu. He wonders if it’s the familiarity that’s driving the depth of his feelings. They’ve been friends for the past two years, after all. But as he turns the thought over, it doesn’t feel like a good enough explanation. 

Because here’s the thing: Yeonjun has dated other people before, been in relationships longer, even gone all the way with people and it never made him feel like this. 

By this he means: 

It’s the way his heart jumps in his chest when he hears Beomgyu’s voice yell his name from a distance. The way he wakes up from the groggy state he’s been all morning, without a single drop of caffeine, and immediately looks around for where it’s coming from. 

He spots him easily, and for all the grief he gives Beomgyu about being tiny, he’s thankful for how he towers over most people. It makes him stand out in a crowd. 

It’s the way the sight of him alone alights every speck of Yeonjun’s body, like the entirety of him is saying, _he’s here! he’s here!_ and Yeonjun is unable to do anything but open his arms wide as Beomgyu runs towards him and wraps him in a hug so tight that Yeonjun couldn’t even let him go if he wanted to. 

(Yeonjun doesn’t want to.)

“You’re here!” Beomgyu says against his neck, before pulling back and pressing kisses to his face, “Missed you, missed you, missed you—” 

Yeonjun can’t help but laugh and lets his eyes roam his boyfriend’s face. He’s learned to live with the reality of Facetime this whole summer, but it just doesn’t compare. He needs the high quality resolution only reality can provide. The camera just can’t capture the shine in his eyes, these ones that put even morning stars to shame. 

Yeonjun smiles, feeling his heart settle, “Yeah, I’m here.” 

  
  
  


First order of business—breakfast. 

For his first meal in Daegu, Beomgyu and Soobin take him to a small restaurant, tucked between a laundromat and a locksmith. It sits unassuming and when they walk in through the door, he notes that it’s just a bit shy of being empty. Yeonjun wouldn’t have thought it was famous for anything at all. 

“I swear,” Soobin says as they take their seat at a corner table, “This place has the best nureun guksu in Daegu.” 

Beomgyu takes a seat on one side and pulls the chair beside him with a meaningful look directed at Yeonjun. _How cute_ , he thinks as he takes the seat, patting Beomgyu’s knee under the table. 

“Dude,” Yeonjun says, turning to Soobin, “I believe you. I’m sure it’s good.” 

Soobin squints at him before turning to Beomgyu, “Was he not doubting? Tell me you saw the look of doubt on his face.” 

Beomgyu gives Yeonjun a considering look, one that Yeonjun pouts at. It only gets Yeonjun an apologetic hand hold. “He definitely was. He was looking around kind of unsure. But it’s okay as long as he comes out of here satisfied—”

“Which you _will_ ,” Soobin says in a way that makes Yeonjun feel a little bit threatened. 

“Of course, he will,” Beomgyu adds, “We chose this restaurant because we know your noodle-bias.”

Soobin picks up a menu, which was large enough to hide his face as he comments, “Noodles. Hyung’s first love.” 

Yeonjun can’t even stick his tongue out at him, because he wouldn’t see. 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu grabs his attention and points at a picture of what Yeonjun assumes is the famous nureun guksu, “You have to get this.” 

Yeonjun laughs, “Is that so? Do I get a choice at all?” 

“Not really,” Soobin dramatically puts the menu down. “Our pride is on the line here, so you have to get the best.” 

Beomgyu waves at a middle-aged woman standing by the counter. She comes immediately with cups and a pitcher of water, and she sets it down on the table before asking, “What can I get for you kids?” 

Beomgyu turns to Soobin, who nods without a word. “Umm,” Beomgyu points at the menu, “Could we have three orders of the _nureun guksu_?” 

“Okay,” She nods, not bothering to take out a pen or paper, “Anything else? Anything to drink?” 

“Hyung, did you want something other than water? Tea?” Beomgyu asks. 

Yeonjun shakes his head, “No, I’m good.” 

Beomgyu smiles, “That’s it then!” 

Soobin quietly collects their menus off the table and hands it to her. She smiles sweetly at him and just before she leaves, Beomgyu cheekily adds, “Ahjumma, could I make a special request? This person right here,” he throws an arm over Yeonjun’s shoulder, “is from Seoul. We need to make sure that he comes out impressed. Our pride as Daegu people is on the line.” 

Yeonjun feels himself shrink in his seat as their server raises a brow at him, “Don’t worry, we never disappoint.” 

Both Soobin and Beomgyu erupt into cackles at that, while all Yeonjun can do is politely smile until she turns away. He hits Beomgyu’s shoulder and tries to hit Soobin too but misses, “You guys are the worst! Are you guys going to do this at every restaurant we eat at?” 

“You don’t understand,” Soobin takes the pitcher and pours water for each of them. “Beomgyu and I have been waiting for this moment, for all the times you’ve asked us jokingly if Daegu had this or that—” 

“I was kidding!” Yeonjun defends himself, though he can’t help but laugh. They always bring this up. “I said it once and you guys never forgot. I don’t actually think Daegu is a rural city that uses tractors to give people rides to Seoul.” 

Beomgyu presses a hand to his chest, where this hurt has supposedly been festering, “Where was this disclaimer back when we were hurting over it, huh, Soobin?” 

Soobin shakes his head, “It’s two years too late. Now he has to eat his words and say Daegu is the best city in South Korea or else we’ll never forgive him.” 

Beomgyu takes a spoon and extends it to Yeonjun like it’s a mic, “What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Yeonjun sniffs, “I’m innocent. If it’s an apology you want, you should have asked two years ago.” 

“This is the guy you’re bringing home to your parents?” Soobin points at Yeonjun unimpressed and Yeonjun’s jaw drops. 

Beomgyu sighs, “Yes, this is the one—” 

The reminder strikes at his heart. He knows the two of them are just being playful, but the truth is he’s terribly nervous about meeting Beomgyu’s family. It was something Beomgyu had brought up on their facetime calls.

 _My parents would like to meet you_ , Beomgyu had said without looking at the camera. _They were wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner while you’re here._

He could hear Beomgyu fiddling with something outside of the camera’s frame and it stopped when Yeonjun let a moment pass without saying anything. He didn’t know what to say, because Yeonjun had never been asked that question. The only thing he could think of at that moment was: _isn’t it too soon?_

But his non-response had Beomgyu hurriedly backtracking, _it’s okay if you don’t want to! i told them i’d ask just to ask, but it was ultimately up to you—_

 _I’ll do it,_ Yeonjun had said with a tight resolve, which only came after a swift push down of the anxiousness pulsing up his throat. 

Beomgyu finally looked at the camera with surprise, _You will? Are you sure?_

Yeonjun nodded, and something soft bloomed and settled on Beomgyu’s face. It might have been relief. _Oh_ , Beomgyu continued, _that really means a lot to me, hyung._

There it was. Yeonjun knew it would be important, that it wasn’t really a matter of willingness and more of a matter of overcoming his own trepidation. These were important people to Beomgyu, and Beomgyu was important to Yeonjun. Yeonjun _will_ meet them. But the anxiety stemmed from a primary worry: _what if they don’t like me?_

He thought he’d have more time to prepare his heart, but he’s here now and still, he’s worried. He’d even asked his other friends, who were also in relationships, for advice, but none of them had anything good to say. _Slap some fake tattoos on,_ one had said. _Make sure you tell them the food sucks_ , another had advised. Get them to say, _I forbid you from dating my son!_ Yeonjun wondered if he had any friends that didn’t act like clowns? 

Under the table, he feels a hand lay over his, the touch of it comforting, and when he looks at Beomgyu, he finds Beomgyu already looking at him with a smile. “I’m excited for you to meet them. Appa says he’s going to make something special for dinner. So everyone is extra excited.” 

“Really?” Yeonjun asks, quietly intertwining their hands together. How did Beomgyu know to do that? 

“Yeah, when Uncle cooks, you know the food is going to be good,” Soobin adds. “Also, Beomgyu has been talking about you for at least a year. They’ve kind of met you already, considering the amount of things they know about you. Beomgyu’s hyung the other day was like, _I am about to fall in love with him, please be quiet._ ” 

“That was actually him being nice,” Beomgyu argues, while squeezing their intertwined hands. “One time, he got so mad at me for being noisy and he put me in a headlock. That’s when I learned the lesson of knowing when to shut up.” 

“Wasn’t that because you talked back at him?” Soobin raises a brow, but it goes unacknowledged. 

Yeonjun makes a confused noise and teases, “I feel like that’s actually a lesson you never learned.” 

“But I have so much to say?” Beomgyu says with no ounce of shame, “My thoughts are just so precious they need to be said out loud—” 

Thankfully, their food starts coming in and Beomgyu ends up quieting down. The ahjumma who took their order is back with the banchan first. She sets three dishes of boiled barley in front of each of them, before distributing plates of kimchi, onion, and peppers. 

Yeonjun’s mouth is already watering at the sight. He’s been awake for too long without anything in his stomach. 

She leaves and comes back with three steaming bowls of nureun guksu balanced in her hands, placing them with practiced ease on the table. She also provides soy sauce and doenjang for them on the side as sauces. “Alright, eat up,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. She nods at Yeonjun and says, “Welcome to Daegu, kid.” 

Beomgyu and Soobin snicker as Yeonjun turns red and ducks his head down to look at his bowl of noodles instead. 

First impression? It looks and smells delicious. The pale yellow color of the anchovy broth emphasizes the green-black flakes of seaweed, the chopped little bits of brown mushroom, and the speckled white of the sesame seeds sprinkled on. Yeonjun grabs his chopsticks with one hand and his spoon in the other and starts to dig in. 

The broth makes him want to ascend. The flavor is light but packs a punch? It makes him feel warm and he thinks it’s such a good choice to have as his first meal of the day. He thinks he could be satisfied with the broth alone, but now he wants to try the noodles. He uses his chopsticks to pull a generous amount of noodles to his mouth, slurping loudly and then chewing. 

_God_ , Yeonjun thinks, leaning back against his chair, _this is prime_. 

He doesn’t want to say it, but he almost forgot that he was eating with other people. He only remembers when Soobin and Beomgyu’s side commentary interrupts his food lovefest. He looks at them with a mouthful of noodles to see that they’ve just been watching him eat this whole time. Their food hasn’t even been touched. 

He glares at them but it just heightens their amusement. Soobin shakes his head, “He doesn’t even notice us, Beomgyu. I think he fell in love with the noodles.” 

Beomgyu is looking at him with such warm eyes, making pinching gestures, “He looks so cute like this. I feel full just watching him eat.” 

Soobin sighs happily too, “I’m satisfied with this reaction. I was even going to take a picture, but I’d feel like I was interrupting something.” 

Beomgyu just presses a kiss to his fingers and then presses those fingers against Yeonjun’s cheek. “Cutie,” Beomgyu mumbles, before finally digging into his own food. 

_You’re the cute one_ , Yeonjun wants to say, but the words get swallowed down, along with the noodles he’s eating. 

The spot on his cheek that Beomgyu had touched feels warm. 

The three of them are such quiet eaters, and it feels Yeonjun with a certain amount of fondness. Before Yeonjun had met them, he used to feel bad about ignoring the person he ate with, because he’d be so focused on eating instead. But that was never the case with these two, because they all eat the same way. He’s always comfortable with them. 

Soobin finishes first and wonders out loud, “I wonder what we should do first? Hyung, is there anything you have in mind?” 

Yeonjun chews in thought and once he’s swallowed the food in his mouth, he says, “Not really. I figured you guys would know what’s good and what isn’t. I just really want to eat well, see nice things, and have fun together.” 

Beomgyu sips his water and then says, “Well, we have a couple of things planned. Like, you don’t even have to mention good food, that’s a given. But we were going to take you to some museums if you want, some sightseeing, we’ll even put you to work when we visit the strawberry farms. You can obviously veto if you’d like. You brought your hiking stuff, right?” 

“Yep,” Yeonjun says, “I brought everything you told me to. My mom had to help me pack my suitcase and she was asking if I’m never planning on coming back.”

Soobin laughs, “She was probably like, are you eloping?” 

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu gasps and dramatically points at his own ring finger, “We can be fiancées?” 

Yeonjun is sorry to ruin his dreams, “Mom wants me to graduate college first.” 

“Boooooo,” Beomgyu gives him a thumbs down. “Oh wait, that’s only a year from now. We can have a long engagement—”

Soobin stabs his noodles with his chopsticks, “You guys are so fucking gross—” 

_Yeah_ , Yeonjun thinks, _with these two, anything they do is bound to be fun._

  
  
  


Or, it will be a fun time after he gets through the nerve-wracking experience of meeting Beomgyu’s parents. 

It comes as both a relief and torture that Yeonjun has all day before then. Relief because he has more time to compose himself, and torture because he has time to think of all that could possibly go wrong. A part of him wishes he could fast forward and just get to it. Cross his fingers and hope for the best. 

But this isn’t just any dinner and this isn’t just anybody. Yeonjun needs this to go well. He resolves to ask Soobin for some advice when they get some time alone later. 

They’re currently driving to Soobin’s house, where he’ll be staying for the next two weeks. He looks curiously out the window, watches as the streets they pass become greener, concrete jungles turning into suburban havens. 

Yeonjun has heard many stories of this place. He could recite enough stories about this place to pass as a native. But as he admires the tree-lined streets all he can think about is the famous origin story of Soobin-and-Beomgyu. How a tiny Beomgyu had tailed a tiny Soobin hoping they could walk to school together. How Soobin had only walked faster in order to run away from the weird kid chasing him. It was their parents that bridged them together — Soobin pulled aside by his mother and asked, _could you be Beomgyu’s friend?_

It’s funny how it’s Soobin following Beomgyu now. 

He tries to picture two little summer children, holding hands and chattering non-stop about the latest episode of Pororo they watched. It’s odd to think of them like that, still at the beginning of something that can now only be described as forged by fate. The memories they shared together felt like heavy bricks, and these bricks piled up and up until they formed an impenetrable wall too tall for Yeonjun to climb.

It was the Kingdom of Soobin and Beomgyu—of which Yeonjun could hear about but never visit, one he would always be a foreigner to. 

He’s here now and he’s being welcomed with open arms. The moment he steps into Soobin’s house, the lovely Choi Sooyoung—Soobin’s mom—pulls him into the warmest hug, “Yeonjunnie, we’re so happy to have you here. How was the train?” 

She takes the three of them to dinner every time she visits Soobin in Seoul. Yeonjun isn’t shameless enough to say it out loud, but he loves it when she visits. She always takes them to a nice restaurant and brings them _banchan_ that lasts them days. 

Yeonjun laughs, “I slept the whole way here!”

“Ah, sounds like it was a good trip down then,” Sooyoung says. 

“It was,” Yeonjun nods, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Auntie, I just want to thank you for letting me stay here. I hope it’s not too much trouble—”

“Nonsense,” She shakes her head, pinching his cheek, “It’s nothing compared to how you’ve been taking care of our Soobin and our Beomgyu. God, I’m still so embarrassed of my son’s living habits—” 

“Omma!” Soobin yells, the embarrassment cracking his voice, “I’m a great roommate. I even cook now.” 

"It's true, Auntie," Beomgyu pipes up, "Hyung and I saw it with our very eyes. The boyfriend is bringing out good changes in him.” 

At the mention of the word _boyfriend_ , Sooyoung sighs, “The mysterious Kang Taehyun he doesn’t want to introduce to us.” She turns to Soobin and nags, “Why can’t you be like Beomgyu? Bring your boyfriend home.” 

Soobin grumbles, “Don’t compare me to them. Taehyun and I are on our own time. I don’t want to scare him away.” 

“Is Taehyun a coward, Beomgyu?” Sooyoung asks. 

“He’s the most fearless guy I know,” Beomgyu says solemnly, despite Soobin gesturing at him to not say a word. 

Yeonjun laughs when Sooyoung simply shakes her head at Soobin. “I’ll keep bugging you until you bring him home. Come on, go show Yeonjun where he’ll be staying.” 

“Honey,” She says, turning to Yeonjun, "Feel free to act like this is your own home. Beomgyu already does."

"Auntie!" Beomgyu pouts, clinging to her arm, "You said I could because I was your favorite son!"

"Stop, that was our secret," She laughs, patting his hand. 

Soobin sighs, pulling on Yeonjun's arm. "Come on, hyung. Once Beomgyu and my mom get going there's nothing that can come between them."

Yeonjun laughs, "I completely understand. He just has that effect on people."

Soobin stops and gives him a very unimpressed look, "That's gross. I get that you're dating but please. This is torture. I can't keep hearing about Beomgyu and how you can get lost in his gravity—"

 _Oh my god_ , Yeonjun thinks, _Beomgyu and his big fat mouth._

Yeonjun pushes him forward, "I have never said that. If Beomgyu told you I said that, don't believe him. He's a little demon—"

"And when he hears you say that and he pouts at you for calling him a demon and you inevitably give in and apologize because you can't take it when he looks like that—"

"Are you gonna snitch on me? What happened to being my bro? I thought we agreed that Beomgyu and I get to share you equally, huh?"

Soobin wisely doesn’t answer. They walk down the hallway and Soobin points to a door on the right, “That one is my room,” and then he walks up the door across from it and opens it with a flourish, “and this one’s yours for the next two weeks.” 

It looks comfortable and homey. Yeonjun walks in with his suitcase and sits on the bed. “Dude, this is great. I was ready to sleep on a pull out futon in your room.” 

“Nah,” Soobin says, “My noona already moved out, so we have an extra room. No reason to make you sleep on the floor with all the extra space.” 

“Seriously,” Yeonjun emphasizes, “I’m grateful. Speaking of which—” 

Yeonjun carefully sets his suitcase down and kneels to the floor with it. “I hope my mom packed your gifts well.” 

“You got us gifts?” Soobin asks, incredulous. He crouches down next to Yeonjun and watches as Yeonjun pulls out the two bottles of wine his mother had tucked in between his pants. He sighs in relief when he sees them both intact. 

“Of course,” Yeonjun puffs his chest, “I would have been so embarrassed if I came empty-handed.”

Soobin inspects the wine and Yeonjun hurriedly adds, “I don’t actually know if it’s any good, but my mom helped me pick it out. By that, I mean, she literally picked it out and I pulled out my wallet to buy it.” 

Soobin laughs, putting the wine bottle down. “I’m sure it’s good. It’s the thought that counts anyway. Is the other one for Beomgyu’s parents?” 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck, “You think they’ll like it?” 

“Probably,” Soobin laughs, “I wouldn’t worry so much about the gift. It’s you they want to meet.” 

That’s what Yeonjun is worried about. He understands the very real possibility that they could dislike him, but he’s not prepared for that possibility to become a reality. Yeonjun clears his throat, “Speaking of that, do you have any tips for me before I meet them?” 

“Tips?” Soobin asks, pursing his mouth in thought, “I would say...just act as you normally would. You’re a generally likable guy and you’re smart, I know you won’t say anything stupid, like telling them the real story of how you and Beomgyu got together—”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “Yeah, Beomgyu and I discussed this. All we’ll say if anybody asks is that we were friends first, realized we had feelings for each other, and I asked him out. Easy.” 

“Good,” Soobin claps for him. “Beautiful love story. A classic in the making.” 

“Shut up,” Yeonjun smacks him on the shoulder, “So just act normally? That’s the best advice you can give me?” 

Soobin winces as he rubs his shoulder, “Okay, it sounds very unhelpful, but think about it. You’d want them to like you for the things that you actually are, right? Not what you pretend to be. Besides, I’m not being biased as your friend when I say this, but I can’t come up with any reason why I wouldn’t approve of you dating my son.” 

Yeonjun snorts, but he finds some of anxiety relieved at Soobin’s words. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Soobin confirms, “Beomgyu’s happy. Isn’t that all that matters?” 

Yeonjun can’t disagree with that. 

Soobin continues, “Besides, Beomgyu loves you and you love him back. I think it’s just a matter of them seeing who earned their son’s love.”

 _Love_. The word echoes in his head and reverberates in his heart. Back when he’d confessed to Beomgyu about his true feelings, he had said _maybe the L word too_ , because he wasn’t sure on how deep his feelings for Beomgyu ran. He still isn’t sure now. 

The uncertainty pricks at him like static thrumming under his skin. It’s something he rarely dwells on and each time he does, he ends up even more confused than before. He hesitates bringing it up, but if he doesn’t tell Soobin of all people, then who else would he tell? 

“I don’t know about that,” Yeonjun carefully starts. 

“Huh?” Soobin blinks, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Yeonjun runs his hand through his hair, “I don’t know...if I love him.” 

Soobin tilts his head, looking even more confused, “You don’t love him?” 

“I _mean_ I don’t know,” Yeonjun repeats slowly, “Please don’t make me say it again.” 

“Are you sure—” Yeonjun hits him, hoping that it helps reach the point across, considering his words clearly can’t. 

“Ow!” Soobin puts his hand up to block further hits, but the one Yeonjun got in feels satisfying enough that he doesn’t attempt another one. “Can you stop being so violent? I get hit by Beomgyu all the time already, I don’t need you to add onto it.” 

“Well, stop asking me if I’m sure. I literally don’t know,” Yeonjun slumps, putting his hands on his cheeks, “Do you think I would joke about this?” 

It’s the honest-to-god truth. In stories about romance, love is obvious when it enters the room. People always just seem to know or there’s always a specific _oh_ moment that helps people realize their true feelings of love. But Yeonjun has since divorced himself from the dreamy narrative of love that the movies portray. Has done so ever since he’s completely misinterpreted the relationship between Soobin and Beomgyu. 

The love that exists in real life wears many faces and Yeonjun just can’t interpret his feelings based on something that’s betrayed him before. 

Yeonjun refuses to misname this feeling in his chest. Yeonjun won’t do it, not again. 

This time, he’s determined to do right by Beomgyu, his boy who deserves only his certainty. 

"It's okay to not know," Soobin says eventually, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It must be hard for you considering that he's already in love with you. The pressure to match it must be unreal."

Yeonjun shakes his head, "It's nothing to how he must feel. The waiting has to be worse. I'm the luckier one for sure."

"Nah," Soobin disagrees, "Maybe these two things are incomparable. At the end of the day, you're just two people whose hearts are trying to meet in the middle." 

Maybe that’s true, but Yeonjun can’t stop himself from agonizing over it. For now, he pushes that worry down and sets it aside for another time. He has more pressing things to worry about. 

"Anyway," Yeonjun sighs, staring at his suitcase, "What should I wear for dinner tonight?"

“ _That_ ,” Soobin says, standing up, “is a question for your boyfriend.” 

  
  
  
  


Beomgyu tells him to wear a simple button up tucked in denim jeans, “So you look like a good boy.” 

“I am a good boy,” Yeonjun presses his lips together, “I’m literally on scholarship at our university.” 

“I know you are, but sometimes…” Beomgyu trails off, picking a random lint off of Yeonjun’s shirt, “You just don’t look the part.” 

Yeonjun pouts, “Are you saying I look mean? This face? Mom says I’m the cutest.” 

Beomgyu giggles, wrapping his arms around his waist, “She’s absolutely right.” 

“Um,” Soobin rudely interjects from the bed he’s chosen to lie on, “I’m still here?” 

They both turn to him—with Yeonjun feeling a tad bit more embarrassed than Beomgyu who is shameless enough to say, “Well? Just leave then?” 

Soobin narrows his eyes at both of them, “This is literally my house?” 

“And?” Beomgyu doesn’t even bother taking his hands off of Yeonjun’s waist, “Can you give us some alone time? I need to talk to him about something.” 

“Is that what kids call making out these days?” Soobin groans, but he gets up anyway, rolling off the bed and clumsily getting up when he falls to the floor. “I’ll give you guys a moment. Remember, this is my house.” 

Yeonjun has the decency to at least wave goodbye, when he exists out the door. Beomgyu only laughs, excited to be the cause of Soobin’s suffering. 

“Did you actually want to talk about something?” Yeonjun asks, “Or did you just want to be alone?” 

Beomgyu leans back and looks up, “Hmmm, a little bit of both? I just wanted to ask you if you’re good for tonight?” 

“Why? Do I look not okay to you?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “You look fine. Just—I’ll have to leave ahead of time, because I’m helping out with dinner. And I don’t know, I just wanted to make sure I got the chance to check in with you in case I don’t get the chance to later.” 

Here, Yeonjun pauses under Beomgyu’s searching eyes and tries, “I’m fine,” though when Beomgyu raises a brow in response, he ends up floundering, “I mean, I’ll be fine.” 

A slow smile grows on Beomgyu’s face, “Yeah? Is that your final answer?” 

“No,” Yeonjun sighs, pressing his forehead against Beomgyu’s as he deflates, “I’m nervous as hell. I want it to go well. Beomgyu, I’ve never done this before.” 

Beomgyu exhales with a hum, moves his hands from Yeonjun’s waist to hold his face. “It will,” Beomgyu says, earnestly and without even a trace of doubt. “I am not even the least worried about them not liking you. Everything about you is lovable. This is how it’s gonna go—” 

Yeonjun nods, letting Beomgyu paint a prettier picture of tonight for him. 

“You and Soobin will walk to my house, knock on the door, and I’ll answer, so I’ll be the first face you see—”

“I love it already,” Yeonjun can’t help but chime in. 

Beomgyu giggles, “I’ll introduce you to everyone one by one. Then we’ll get on with dinner. Omma is nosier than Appa so expect questions from her. My hyung will try to act all cool but he’s a loser, so don’t be intimidated. I’m the favorite son, if you didn’t already know—”

That gets him to laugh, which works wonders on easing the tightness in his heart. 

“—I am! But anyway, you’ll eat the best steak ever and be so full and happy at the end of the night you’ll find yourself wondering why you were ever worried.” 

Beomgyu has a way with words. Yeonjun doesn’t know if it’s the music major in him, but always, always, he puts the prettiest spin to things Yeonjun can only see the ugly side of. “I hope that really is the case.” 

“My words have magic, hyung,” Beomgyu brags, and Yeonjun lets him because what’s the harm in letting Beomgyu’s pretty words come true? “You’ll see.” 

Yeonjun finally pulls away with a laugh, “Okay, okay. I’ll trust your vision.” 

There’s an awkward amount of time between now and when they have to go to Beomgyu’s house. It’s not enough time for them to explore anywhere. So they make do, chilling on Soobin’s couch, content to pass the time just hanging out with each other. 

Before they know it, it’s time for Beomgyu to go. 

Soon enough, it’s time for Yeonjun and Soobin to go too. 

Beomgyu’s house is a literal walk down the street. He tries to maintain the comforting words Beomgyu had placed in his mind and lets Soobin chatter on even if none of what he’s saying is registering in Yeonjun’s mind. His silence is obvious enough that by the time they reach the door to Beomgyu’s home, Soobin has to pat him on the back to bring some sense in him back. 

Soobin laughs, “Are you breathing, hyung? Make some noise, you’re scaring me.” 

Yeonjun breathes in deep, the way they taught him in yoga class, and breathes out with a nod, “Yeah, it’s fine. I can do this. I’m great. I’m stunning.” 

Soobin gives him a quick hug, “Yes, you’re the coolest. Should I knock?” 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says. This is as ready as he’ll ever be. “Let’s do it.” 

Soobin raps on the door and true to his promise, it’s Beomgyu who ends up answering the door. He looks incredibly cute wearing a red checkered apron. “My comrades, long time no see,” He greets them with a flourish, stepping aside to let them in. “Welcome to the Choi home, fellow Chois.” 

Yeonjun lets Soobin enter first, before following right behind him. Beomgyu closes the door after him and then bends down to place a pair of house slippers at his feet. “You can use these, they’re an extra pair and you’re wearing socks anyway.” 

Yeonjun bends down too, pressing the bottle of red wine his mother had helped him buy as a gift in his hands, “For you and your family. I hope it’s good. Mom sends it with her love.” 

Beomgyu marvels at it, turning the bottle over to inspect the label. As he takes off his shoes, Yeonjun asks, “Do you know if it’s good?” 

“Nah,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “I’m just trying to figure out the alcohol content.” 

“It’s about the quality and the taste. That’s expensive, you know?” Yeonjun laughs, ruffling his hair. 

Beomgyu pouts, “Fine. I’ll share the gift my boyfriend splurged on to get into my parents’ good graces.”

The two of them stand up and Yeonjun takes a moment to look around the house. He takes in their mid-century style furniture, all of it a warm shade of brown wood against clean white walls. Green plants living in corners of light. Family pictures creating pockets of light in dark spaces. Interesting little trinkets spread throughout the home. It reminds Yeonjun of Beomgyu’s apartment back in Seoul, with its interesting marriage of the aesthetic and the personal. Beautiful enough to be on an Instagram spread but if you look close enough, it’s a room that only one person could own. 

It makes him wonder if Beomgyu’s taste is inherited or if it’s something he’s tried to emulate to remind him of home. 

He’s broken out of his thoughts when he hears Soobin loudly greet what sounds like Beomgyu’s parents in the kitchen. Beomgyu grabs his hand, “Come on, let’s put this in the dining room. Who do you want to meet first?” 

Yeonjun squeezes his hand, “You can choose. I’m at your mercy.” 

“Hmm,” Beomgyu leads him to the dining room, where it looks like plates and utensils have already been set. He places the wine at one end of the table and takes a peek through a doorway, “Omma, Appa, do you want to come meet Yeonjun-hyung?” 

Yeonjun hears their voices first. 

Beomgyu’s father had a deep, smooth voice, like someone who does night-time radio. Yeonjun could hear him say, “Oh? Is it time to meet the man of the hour?” 

“Honey, put the steak knife down before you go out,” comes another voice, sharp and higher-pitched, that Yeonjun can only assume comes from Beomgyu’s mother. 

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “Appa, that’s not funny.” 

“Hyunwoo would think it’s funny,” comes Beomgyu’s father’s response, punctuated with a full-bellied laugh. 

Yeonjun is a second away from breaking into cold sweat when the two of them finally walk out of the kitchen. Beomgyu stays at his side and doesn’t let go of his hand, “This is my boyfriend, Choi Yeonjun. Please be nice to him.” 

Yeonjun hurriedly bows and when he lifts his head up, he finds Beomgyu’s father has extended a hand to him. “Yeonjun, it’s nice to put a face to the name.” He smiles, enigmatic. “Choi Hyunbin.” 

Yeonjun takes his hand and shakes it, “Ahbeonim, it’s nice to meet you too. Beomgyu talks about you all the time.” 

Hyunbin smiles, gaze flickering to Beomgyu, “Oh yeah? He probably didn’t mention what a handsome father he has, huh?” He makes a move to slick back his hair, and it has Beomgyu’s mother slapping him on the shoulder. 

She shakes her head and extends her hand to him too, “Choi Minha. It’s so lovely to meet you. I heard you’re staying over at Sooyoung’s?” 

“Yes, she was kind enough to let me stay for the next two weeks,” Yeonjun says, shaking her hand. 

“A good woman, that one,” Minha nods with approval, “Our families have been friends for years, ever since Soobin and Beomgyu first met.” 

At the mention of Soobin, Yeonjun sees him pop his head in the doorway of the kitchen and offer him a thumbs up. He’s so supportive. 

“Hyung knows,” Beomgyu pipes up, “He’s Soobin’s roommate, remember?” 

“Ah, how could I forget?” Hyunbin pinches his nose, “Honey, we should actually be offering our apologies right now. This is the boy our son has been mooching off for the past year.” 

Minha pats Yeonjun’s hand, “It’s alright, dear. We hope dinner tonight is enough to make up for everything Beomgyu has eaten.” 

Yeonjun smiles unsurely, turning to Beomgyu who is rolling his eyes, “I told them that you treat me to food all the time, and then they tease me about being a moocher. Hyung, tell them it’s not true.” 

Both Hyunbin and Minha look at Beomgyu with half-bitten smiles. It’s so obvious how adored he is, and it’s that thought that begins to ease his nerves. In that regard, Yeonjun isn’t any different. 

“Well,” Yeonjun starts, “It’s kind of true—” and both of them laugh as Beomgyu cries foul, “—but it’s nothing to apologize for. I do it willingly.” 

Hyunbin looks at him, gaze piercing, and Yeonjun holds his breath for what he has to say in response to that. But Hyunbin blinks and his entire expression softens, “Is that so? Well, I’m happy to hear that. Do you like steak, Yeonjun?” 

Yeonjun gulps and tries not to sound overeager, “I love steak.” 

By their laughs, Yeonjun can tell he missed the mark. Minha smiles, “Good, my husband makes the best steak. It’ll be ready in a bit.” 

Hyunbin puts a hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder and squeezes, “Good to have you, kid.” 

The two of them walk back into the kitchen and Yeonjun tries not to be so audible in his relief. Beomgyu laughs, arms circling his waist, “That wasn’t so bad, huh?” 

“There’s still dinner,” Yeonjun says, “There’s still your hyung.” 

“He went out to buy dessert, so he’ll come in a bit,” Beomgyu pats his stomach before pulling away. “Hey,” Beomgyu fixes him with a look, “I’m really glad you’re here. This really means a lot to me.” 

“I know,” Yeonjun says after a moment. “I know it does,” he says again, taking Beomgyu’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. 

They suddenly hear a cough and Yeonjun immediately drops Beomgyu’s hand. When they turn towards the sound, Yeonjun sees a tall figure standing by the entrance of the house. 

“Oh, Hyunwoo-hyung,” Beomgyu says with surprise. “You’re back already?” 

“Dude, it was five minutes away,” Hyunwoo rolled his eyes as he lifted the bag he held in his hand, “I managed to get the chocolate cake you requested. It was the last one.” 

“Thanks, hyung,” Beomgyu says, taking the bag from him. As he did so, Hyunwoo’s gaze slipped from Beomgyu to Yeonjun. His gaze sweeps all the way down to Yeonjun’s slippers and back up again, punctuated only by a raised brow. “Gyu-yah, are you not going to introduce me?” 

“I was getting to it,” Beomgyu throws him an annoyed look, before saying, “This is my boyfriend, Choi Yeonjun,” and to Yeonjun, Beomgyu gestures at his brother, “Yeonjun-hyung, this is my brother—” 

“Choi Hyunwoo,” Hyunwoo extends a hand and Yeonjun takes it to shake it. He tries hard not to wince when he feels Hyunwoo grasp his hand a tad bit tight for what should be a friendly handshake. Hyunwoo gives a small quirk of a smile, “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too,” Yeonjun says tightly. 

Between them, Beomgyu eyes their clasped hands and is about to say something when Soobin exits the kitchen with a groan, “Dude, Auntie is putting me to work—” Soobin stops when he sees what he walked into, “Oh, I see you met Hyunwoo-hyung.” 

Yeonjun has never been more grateful to see Soobin. Hyunwoo finally lets go of his hand and walks over to put Soobin in a headlock, leaving Yeonjun to stare at his reddening hand. Beomgyu sees his hand and looks at him, apologetic. Yeonjun shakes his head, mouths, _it’s fine_. It’s nothing he didn’t expect. 

Besides, the rest of dinner goes relatively smoothly.

Hyunbin eventually walks out of the kitchen, carrying a large wooden slab with different cuts of steak piled on it. He’s followed by Minha who brings several plates of side dishes. Together, they create one of the most beautiful spreads of food Yeonjun has ever seen. Nervousness aside, he feels so grateful at being invited and served such delicious food. 

“I hope you like it medium rare, Yeonjun,” Hyunbin stands at the head of the table and apportions each piece of steak like a king. “It’s my only rule. Steak has to be eaten medium rare.” 

“Ah, don’t worry, Uncle,” Soobin says, passing his plate to Hyunbin, “Yeonjun-hyung eats everything. He’s not picky at all.” 

Hyunbin laughs as he fills Soobin’s plate, “The opposite of our cute little Cookey then.” 

“Cookey?” Yeonjun asks, turning to Beomgyu who sighs. 

“It’s a childhood nickname,” Beomgyu explains. 

Hyunwoo chimes in, “He still calls you that. It can’t be a childhood nickname if it’s still being used.” 

Hyunbin just seems delighted at having someone new to tell his story, “Beomgyu’s pickiness goes all the way back to when he was a little kid. Loved his sweets. We always caught him climbing countertops and sneakily eating a cookie.” 

“It’s really embarrassing,” Beomgyu says. Yeonjun can see his ears turning red. He really can’t help himself, so he tries to at least be quiet when he says, “It’s cute.” 

Beomgyu crinkles his nose at him, squeezes his hand from where it's obscured and goes unnoticed by the rest of the room. 

Once Hyunbin is done distributing, everyone finally gets a chance to settle down and eat. Beomgyu takes real good care of him, passing the side dishes to him with comments on what they are and which ones he likes best. Yeonjun appreciates it, even if it draws everybody’s attention to them. 

Only Soobin does them the favor in averting his eyes. Though if Yeonjun thinks about it, that’s probably because he’s way too used at them acting like this. 

Minha makes the inevitable first comment, “Beomgyu, let the boy eat. I’m sure he’s had the same side dishes before.” 

“It’s fine,” Yeonjun rushes to say, feeling waves of embarrassment hit him. Something Beomgyu clearly doesn’t feel, because he just goes, “What? I just wanted to make sure he understood these are your specialty dishes, Omma.” 

Hyunbin snickers, which he has to hide the moment Minha turns to him with a glare. 

Yeonjun manages to get a couple amazing bites of the steak, before the Great Choi Inquisition begins. True to what Beomgyu mentioned earlier in the day, it’s Minha who has the most questions. 

She starts off with something small, just like her daintier bites of steak, “Soobin and Beomgyu told me that you’re going to be a senior soon?” 

Yeonjun makes sure his food first before answering, “Yes, it’ll be my final year before I graduate.” 

“And how do you feel about that? You’re in dance, correct?” Minha prods further. 

“It’s a little nerve-wracking, to be honest. There’s a lot of requirements that I need to fulfill before I graduate, so that’s a little daunting,” Yeonjun says, carefully. “But dance is something I love and am serious about, so it’s exciting to be in the final stages of my studies. It’s a craft that continuously evolves, though, so I imagine there will always be something new to learn.” 

“I think people in the arts are amazing,” Hyunbin says, leaning back in his seat, “And I’m not just saying that because Beomgyu is in it. I think being able to create something out of nothing is something to applaud for, always. It makes me wish I was creative enough back then.” 

Hyunwoo snorts, “Appa, you spent your youth as a racecar driver. I think you had plenty of fun, even with Halmeoni against it.” 

“That’s true,” Hyunbin chuckles, “The old woman would have disowned me if I even thought about doing anything artistic.” 

Soobin chimes in, “Wait, but she didn’t disown you for being a racecar driver?” 

“She tried, didn’t she?” Beomgyu recollects.

Minha laughs, “She definitely did. Tried to chase him and drag him back home to become an upstanding man of society.” 

Hyunbin smirks, cutting into a piece of steak, “It’s why I was so fast. I just imagined your Halmeoni chasing after me on the track. She didn’t know it then, but she was the reason for my success.” 

It has the whole table laughing, even Yeonjun can’t help but join in. The dinner is really not as bad as Yeonjun had imagined it would be. Minha has a lot of other questions, and he does his best to answer them as honestly as he can.

She asks him basic things: 

Does he have any siblings? (None.) 

How tall is he? (181 cm.) 

Has he always lived in Seoul? (Yes.) 

Does he have plans for the future? (Yes, he’s currently signed on to start working as a choreographer at his Dance Academy after he graduates.)

They’re all easy enough to answer, though he feels like he’s being assessed with each answer he gives. She seems pleased enough with all his responses, and just kept asking question after question. 

Hyunwoo stays quiet through it all, eating his food as he listens to everybody talk. 

It’s Hyunbin who end up asking all the questions about their relationship: 

How did they get together? (Yeonjun gives their practiced answer.) 

How long have they been dating? (Almost four months.) 

Is Beomgyu a good boyfriend? (As cheeky as this ask was, Yeonjun answers it seriously. _Absolutely yes._ )

These are a little harder to answer. They’re a little bit more private when it comes to the details of their relationship, preferring to keep the specifics to an audience of one (and that privilege goes to an unwilling Choi Soobin). He answers these more carefully, knowing these questions held more weight, more gravity. 

There’s one question in particular that gives him pause, and it’s when Hyunbin asks, “So, what do you like the most about Beomgyu?” 

There’s not just one right answer to this question, Yeonjun knows. But no other question of the night has got him feeling as strongly as he does now: that he has to get it _right_. There’s so many things he likes about Beomgyu, but a quality of his that trumps the rest? Yeonjun has to think about it. 

He turns to Beomgyu, who gives him a sweet smile. He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he tries to block it out for once, even if it’s just for this single moment. It takes him a good moment to answer, and it only comes to him when Beomgyu, for the nth time that night, takes his hand. 

“There’s so many things to like, I had to really think about it,” Yeonjun smiles softly at Beomgyu, “But if I had to choose my favourite, it would have to be his hands.” 

“Why his hands?” Hyunbin prods. Yeonjun flashes him a quick smile, before turning his attention back to Beomgyu, “Because...his love lives in his hands. Even if he’s teasing, you know he cares because he’s always doing something quietly for you. He’s affectionate and it manifests through touch. And, he makes the most beautiful music with them,” Yeonjun clears his throat, turning away from Beomgyu, “So yeah, his hands…” 

The whole table is just staring at him, and this time, it’s his ears that feel hot. He wonders if he’s said too much. It’s probably not the kind of thing a father would want to hear about his son. Something claws inside of him, and only loses its grip when Hyunbin gives him the smallest smile and goes back to eating. He seems pleased, but that could be Yeonjun’s own hopes projecting onto him. He doesn’t ask any other question after that, though, and Beomgyu doesn’t look worried at all. He just looks touched, and if anything, that has Yeonjun counting it as a win. 

It’s Minha who clears her throat and gets the conversation into full swing again, with Soobin jumping at the opportunity to answer her and bring the conversation to something more generic. The rest of the dinner goes by like that, full of easy conversations and it has Yeonjun feeling that maybe the worst has passed. 

They manage to finish everything. It surprises Yeonjun a bit, seeing how much everyone in Beomgyu’s family eats. Beomgyu must have been a one-off with his picky eating habits. 

When Minha rises from her seat and starts stacking dishes in her hand, Yeonjun stands up too to help her with it. “I can help clean the dishes, Eomeonim _._ ” 

“No,” Minha stops him, “You’re our guest, I’d be too embarrassed if we make you clean.” 

Yeonjun laughs, grabbing his and Beomgyu’s dirty plates, “It’s the least I can do in exchange for the delicious dinner I just ate.” 

Minha sighs, before smiling as she gives in, “Alright, I’m not gonna turn down free labor.” 

It sounds just like something Beomgyu would say that it makes Yeonjun even more amused. Throughout the night, he’s been doing a lot of mapping. If Beomgyu was the great ocean, here was his family, long lines of rivers that lead right to him. There’s so much of them in Beomgyu, and it’s been a wonder to pick out which part is his father’s or his mother’s and what parts are wholly his. 

Hyunbin comments, appalled, “Honey, you say that like you don’t put _me_ to work every day.” 

Beomgyu pipes up at that too, “Yeah, Omma, remember when I vacuumed yesterday?” 

“Beomgyu,” Minha raises a brow, “You literally just turned on our Roomba. That doesn’t count. Now, come on, I’m not going to let your boyfriend clean everything by himself—” 

“I can go help him out,” Hyunwoo speaks up. Great, Yeonjun thinks, just when he feels like he could finally relax. 

“Hyunwoo-hyung,” Beomgyu warns, and Hyunwoo waves his concern away, “Relax. I’m literally offering out of the goodness of my heart.” 

Beomgyu sends him a look of disbelief. Something tells Yeonjun that Hyunwoo has never once offered to clean dishes in his life. But what’s said is said. Soobin gives him another thumbs up of support (he’s gotten too many of those tonight, and it’s only that and Beomgyu holding his hand getting him through it all) as he follows Hyunwoo to the kitchen. 

Everybody does their part in putting their plates beside the sink, stacking them all until a mountain of dirty plates has been erected. They begin cleaning after that, with Hyunwoo scrubbing the dishes clean and Yeonjun rinsing and drying them out. 

Yeonjun is literally waiting for Hyunwoo to say a word. He has never felt so tense washing dishes. He wonders if his stress is visible and if Hyunwoo is planning on staying quiet to torture him. Hyunwoo decides to end his suffering about halfway through the worst dish washing session Yeonjun has ever experienced, and he breaks the silence in a way Yeonjun couldn’t have expected: 

“By chance, do you remember that one virus? I think it was called the swine flu or something.” 

“Huh?” Yeonjun turns to him, pausing his rinsing. “Yeah, I think I remember it.” 

“Once,” Hyunwoo starts, scrubbing a plate, “When he was around ten or eleven, Beomgyu contracted it. Oh, he was so sick and it hurt enough that he was crying so hard about it. His nose was running and there was snot and all. It was gross, so gross…” 

Yeonjun can’t tell where he’s going with this, but nods to show that he’s listening. 

“I was only thirteen or fourteen then, so I didn’t realize how contagious he was. Omma and Appa took him to the doctors, and they understood how bad it was. That Beomgyu was going to have to miss school for a while until he was better. Apparently, he had a pretty serious case and in kids, the virus lasted even longer. It was terrible. Our parents were so worried and we had to wear masks even at home.” 

Hyunwoo chuckles to himself, “I was such a mean brother to him then. I was telling him how he better not get me sick because I had a really important soccer tryout at that time. You know what Beomgyu did?” 

Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“He’s a little twerp, so I thought he’d try to get me intentionally sick.” Hyunwoo sighs, passing a plate for Yeonjun to rinse, “Imagine my surprise when I hear about how he’s decided to quarantine himself in his room instead. He had this warning sign he posted on his room,” Hyunwoo traces an imaginary sign on a hypothetical door, “He wrote so many things, like _beware, there is danger of infection_ or _don’t use the same towel or toothbrush_. He even drew a cute picture of himself, with glasses and all, and wrote down what he was feeling.” 

Hyunwoo licks his lips, “What I remember the most is the wish he wrote. _God, please make me feel better soon, it hurts._ ” 

“That’s,” Yeonjun says, “That’s heartbreaking.” 

Hyunwoo laughs, but it’s the kind of laugh that’s mirthless. “It’s even more heartbreaking when you think about how lonely he probably was in that room alone. He had a fever and I remember he was even puking. He couldn’t keep anything down. I wondered at one point if he was dying. I prayed so hard that he’d recover. He did, but it took a while.” 

Hyunwoo turns to him, “You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this, huh?” 

Yeonjun nods. 

“I don’t really know what you’re like besides what Beomgyu’s said and dinner tonight. You seem genuine enough and I can tell you really like him.” 

“I do,” Yeonjun confirms. 

“But that’s just the bare minimum,” Hyunwoo says in a way that cuts without remorse. “He seems happy enough, so I won’t say things like _you need to break up with him_. None of that. But I need you to understand how good of a person my little brother is. That even when he’s sick he’s thinking about other people. That he’d rather suffer alone than injure other people. _That_ is the person you’re lucky enough to be dating. Do you understand?” 

Yeonjun nods. He more than understands. He knows this to be true, even without Hyunwoo telling him this little story. Beomgyu has always been good, and he’s always been too good to Yeonjun. 

Hyunwoo continues, “So you’ll have to excuse me when I say, I’ll beat you up if you hurt him. I don’t care if you’re all the way in Seoul. It’s simple really. If you break his heart, I’ll break you too. Are we clear?” 

Yeonjun swallows, “Yes, hyungnim.” 

“Good,” Hyunwoo straightens up and smiles brightly at him. “I’m glad we could have this talk.” 

They finish cleaning the dishes in relative silence, which Yeonjun is absolutely grateful for. He doesn’t actually know what he’d say to Hyunwoo if they had to talk further. Hyunwoo clearly doesn’t feel the same way; he even pats Yeonjun on the back after they’re done, like he didn’t give one of the most terrifying shovel talks of all time. 

Not that Yeonjun felt remotely threatened when Soobin attempted to give him the shovel talk, but it makes that one look so tame in comparison. Yeonjun feels like he’d actually end up at the bottom of the Han River if he were ever to hurt Beomgyu. 

He must look shaken enough when he exits the kitchen, because Beomgyu immediately goes to him and asks, “Hyung, what did my brother say to you?” 

Yeonjun just shakes his head. Beomgyu doesn’t need to know any of the details and even if Yeonjun wanted to tell him, he’s certainly not doing it within hearing distance of Hyunwoo. 

Beomgyu pouts, but senses his hesitance, “Do you want to go to my room and talk? I’ll introduce you to my baby, Toto.” 

“I’d love to,” Yeonjun says, softly. “Will it be okay with your parents?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Beomgyu says, “We’ll just let them know.” 

He leads Yeonjun by the hand, only stopping briefly to let his mother know where they were going. Beomgyu’s house is decorated similarly throughout. Yeonjun hasn’t seen this many plants in a home though. He kind of wishes they had some at his apartment, though he’ll inevitably kill it with neglect. 

Beomgyu’s room is the last door on the right of a long hallway. The lights are already on when Beomgyu opens the door. It’s not that unfamiliar to Yeonjun. Beomgyu had given him a room tour through Facetime once and there doesn’t seem to be much change since then. 

“Welcome, welcome,” Beomgyu ushers him in and immediately makes a bee-line for his parrot. Yeonjun watches as he opens Toto’s cage and says, “Come on, Toto. I have a VIP right here that you need to meet.” 

Toto squawks, but listens to Beomgyu, perching himself on Beomgyu’s finger. Beomgyu carefully turns to him, and Yeonjun thinks that this is probably the chillest introduction he’ll have had today. “Hey Toto,” Yeonjun says, “I’m Beomgyu’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” 

“Toto say, Yeonjun.” Beomgyu orders the bird. 

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu in surprise and is about to ask if Toto can say his name, when Toto lets out a screech instead. Beomgyu sighs, “I’m still working on it. He’ll say your name someday, I’ll make sure of it.” 

“Can he say anything else?” Yeonjun asks. 

“Only Omma,” Beomgyu says, “It’s cause she takes care of him the most when I’m gone. He’s a little biased bird.” 

Yeonjun watches as Beomgyu puckers up at Toto, who bumps its beak against Beomgyu’s mouth. Beomgyu smiles, “But he still loves me the most.” 

Yeonjun can’t believe this bird has just ‘kissed’ Beomgyu in front of him. What does Toto have that Yeonjun doesn’t?

Thankfully, before Yeonjun can spiral, Beomgyu opens Toto’s cage and sets him on his little bird swing. Yeonjun waves goodbye to the bird, “See ya, Toto.” 

“So,” Beomgyu turns to him, “Want to be introduced to my bed?” 

The pickup line comes so suddenly it has Yeonjun doing a double take, “Huh?” 

Beomgyu laughs at his expression, “I mean, should we take a seat on my bed? Want to talk about how you felt about dinner?” 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun feels weak at the thought, but he goes ahead and takes a seat anyway, clasping his hands on his lap. “Yeah, we can talk about it.”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “It’s just so funny how well-behaved you’re acting right now. You can relax now. It’s just me.” 

Yeonjun groans and collapses down and plants his face on Beomgyu’s bed, “Your brother is terrifying, oh my god. This whole time I’ve been worried about your dad when I should have been worried about your brother all along.” 

Yeonjun can hear Beomgyu snickering and he’s so exhausted by the dinner that he can’t even find it in himself to glare at him. He feels a gentle hand patting his back. “There, there,” Beomgyu coos, “If it’s any consolation, my parents really like you. I can tell. It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve ever brought home. Hyunwoo-hyung has been waiting for the day he gets to—” 

“Threaten me?” Yeonjun turns his head, so that he can breath. The dramatics of squishing your face against a pillow is not sustainable. “For dating his sweet baby brother? Little Cookey?” 

“Stop it,” Beomgyu smiles down at him, “My brother did _not_ call me sweet. He would never. I doubt he’d actually do anything. Come on, hyung, cheer up—” 

“If you heard what he said, you wouldn’t say that,” Yeonjun doesn’t even want to repeat the words. He laments, “I’ve been threatened so much. Your friends, your brother, even Soobin has said something. Do they all think I’ll break your heart? How come nobody is concerned about _you_ breaking _my_ heart?” 

Beomgyu silently touches his hair, running his hands through it, as gently as he held his bird. Maybe this is why nobody is concerned about Yeonjun’s heart. 

Beomgyu retracts his hand and in a voice that tries hard to be casual, says, “I think that people can see that I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, and they’re just worried it’s too much too soon—” 

He cuts himself off with a sigh and looks away, picking at a loose thread on his ripped jeans. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun pushes himself up into a sitting position and presses close to Beomgyu. “Hey,” He says softly and wonders what law of gravity exists that can explain why he’s drawn to the invisible ache in Beomgyu’s chest. This need to soothe flares, and when it burns, it eclipses everything else. He sets a hand on top of Beomgyu’s fidgeting one, “Are you worried?” 

Beomgyu’s mouth twists, “Only sometimes. I’m worried because what we have _is_ good. It’s maybe too good and I’m too happy and I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. What’s the catch? Is it always going to be like this? What if it’s only good because we’re so far away from each other? What if this is just the honeymoon period and when it ends, you'll realize I’m too much.” Beomgyu looks at him, “Tell me I’m being stupid.” 

“You are not stupid,” Yeonjun says first. “I’m scared too. What if I’m too much? Or what if I’m doing too little? What if you get tired of waiting for me to catch up to you? Or I’m not good enough? Even today, I was so worried your parents would see me and say, _I forbid you from dating my son_ —” 

Beomgyu laughs, wrapping his arms around Yeonjun’s waist, and rests his head on his shoulder, “They would never say that. Besides, they couldn’t separate you from me even if they tried. I’ll wait as long as it takes and date you for as long as you’ll have me. Because you know…” 

It’s the _I love you_ that Beomgyu promised he wouldn’t say until Yeonjun is ready to say it back. Promised not to, so Yeonjun wouldn’t feel pressured. But Yeonjun hears him say it all the time, indirectly like this or with gestures. 

Yeonjun has never been loved like this—it’s to the point where this unnamed emotion fills him to the point of overflowing, to where it seeps into his own voice as he says, “I know.” 

Beomgyu lifts his head, and with the gentlest touch, Yeonjun rests his head against his. “Don’t be worried. Not with me.” 

“You too,” Beomgyu turns his head and presses the softest kiss against his cheek. “Don’t be worried. Never with me.” 

He’s the best boyfriend in the world. Someone Yeonjun can’t believe he gets to have, and someone he’s still trying to convince himself he deserves. 

This time, it’s Yeonjun who turns his head, pressing a kiss that lingers for a heartbeat or three, before pulling back. “I missed you so much. I’m so glad we get to have these next two weeks. And even after this, it’ll only be for a bit and then we’ll finally be back to school.” 

“I know. I’ve never been this excited to go back to school,” Beomgyu laughs, until Yeonjun cups his cheek and he shutters into someone quiet. “Missed you too,” Beomgyu says, slowly leaning for a kiss, “The selfies you send are cute, but it’s nothing—nothing compared to seeing you like this—” 

It’s something Yeonjun would normally tease him over, but his mind blanks out the moment Beomgyu’s lips are against his. 

He’s missed this too, something he’s too shy to confess except on nights he can’t sleep and Beomgyu’s half asleep on the phone with him. They do that, sometimes. Yeonjun calls with a million excuses, when all he’d wanted to hear was Beomgyu’s voice. It’s easier to close the distance that way; Yeonjun could close his eyes, put the phone on speaker, and pretend Beomgyu is right there beside him, within holding distance. But dreams are dreams and Yeonjun is a realist, through and through. 

That’s when he’d open his eyes and admit to the darkness of his room, _I want to kiss you again_. 

_I want to kiss you all the time_ , he’d say in a voice too quiet but with want so deafeningly loud, it’d make him want to end the call. 

But then Beomgyu’s ink-blue voice would come, crackling through the receiver, _me too, want you to kiss me_ , and then Yeonjun would have to stop himself from losing his mind and buying a one-way ticket to Daegu just to do exactly that. 

This kiss is worth at least ten KTX train tickets. 

The waiting makes Beomgyu’s mouth taste even sweeter, like it’s a little treat Yeonjun gets to have. _This is mine_ , Yeonjun thinks as Beomgyu makes a little noise when Yeonjun nips on his bottom lip. Beomgyu parts his mouth for him and Yeonjun groans as he licks into it. 

His hand moves to Beomgyu’s waist, wanting to pull him closer, wanting him on his lap, but Beomgyu suddenly pulls away instead. Yeonjun chases his mouth mindlessly, which Beomgyu stops with a hand on his chest. 

Yeonjun whines, “Baby—” 

Beomgyu looks at him imploringly, “Someone’s coming up the stairs. Calm down for a sec—” 

Yeonjun blinks at that, feeling out of orbit as Beomgyu puts a comfortable and acceptable amount of space between them. Yeonjun keeps his hands to himself, holding them together in his lap, and seconds later, they hear a soft knock on the door. 

Beomgyu clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, “Come in!” 

But when the door opens, it just reveals Soobin with a smug smile on his face, “What’s up, guys?” 

Yeonjun could throttle him. Beomgyu is ahead of him, throwing one of the stuffed animals he has on his bed at Soobin’s head. “You fucker, I thought it was my dad—” 

“You’re lucky I volunteered to go up,” Soobin snorts, closing the door behind him. “Auntie was wondering how long you guys were going to stay up here. I said, I don’t know Auntie, you know how much Beomgyu can talk. Little did she know, not much talking was clearly happening—”

“Stop, just hearing about Beomgyu’s parents even imagining it makes me want to die,” Yeonjun glares at him.

“Why are you mad?” Soobin frowns, “After all the support I’ve given you today. What would you have done without my positive affirmations and thumbs up of support?” 

Yeonjun pouts, unable to say anything. Soobin cheered him up a lot today; every time Yeonjun would see his supportive gestures, it made him want to laugh (which he couldn’t even do because it would just look odd). 

“Forgive him,” Beomgyu says, “He’s stressed. I told him Omma and Appa definitely like him though.” 

“They really do,” Soobin confirms. “They were saying nice things about you while you guys were up here.” 

“What about Beomgyu’s brother?” 

“Ah, that one,” Soobin just shrugs, “Hyunwoo-hyung didn’t actually say much. Just said you were ‘fine,’”

Beomgyu gasps, “He did? That’s like high praise coming from him.” 

That doesn’t sound right to Yeonjun, but what does he know? He gives in to their reassurances, though he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand next to Beomgyu’s family without feeling like he’s walking on thin ice.

Soobin puts his hand over his heart, which Yeonjun surely knows it’s not aching, “Look at him. He looks like a wilted plant. Beomgyu, have you not been giving him some TLC?” 

“What’s TLC?” Yeonjun asks. 

“Tender Loving Care,” Soobin explains solemnly, which makes Beomgyu snort, “Well, that’s what I was trying to do until you walked in—” 

“Again, if I didn’t, it would have been one of your family members,” Soobin shrugs, “Also, I am the bearer of multiple bad news. We probably should head back soon.” 

Beomgyu sighs, “I can’t believe you guys will be cuddling tonight, while I have to sleep here by myself. A cuddle party without me.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Yeonjun looks at him with sad eyes, before sticking his tongue out at Soobin, “It’s not a cuddle party without you—” 

Soobin fake gags, “This is the worst, pack it up, lovebirds.” 

Yeonjun sighs, standing up, and Beomgyu does too. Once again, he wishes that they were back in school, so they don’t have to separate so early in the night. Ever since he and Beomgyu have gotten together, it just feels like there’s never enough time. He is so hungry for Beomgyu’s time and attention all the time. 

It’s never been like this for him before. He’s dated other people, but this undercurrent of what he can only describe as urgency hasn’t existed before. Why does it always feel like they’re running out of time? 

He awkwardly says his goodbyes to Beomgyu’s parents and maybe Soobin and Beomgyu are right, that he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Minha hugs him goodbye and tells him to come over for dinner again soon, while Hyunbin tells him it was nice to meet him and thanks him for taking care of their son. _He looks happy_ , he had said, while Beomgyu pushes him out of the door in embarrassment. 

Yeonjun glows at his father’s words, enough that his disappointment at not spending more time with Beomgyu wanes the tiniest bit. Beomgyu walks them all the way to the door, closing his front door behind him. He looks like he wants to follow them all the way to Soobin’s house. He looks cute wearing his favorite pink cardigan and floofy hair. 

“Well,” Beomgyu pouts, “Guess you guys really have to go home.” 

“Yep,” Soobin says, walking out into the sidewalk. “Mom wanted us back before a certain time, but I get it. I’ll let you guys say your goodbyes.” 

Yeonjun watches as Soobin turns his back to them, before turning to Beomgyu, “It was nerve-wracking, but I’m glad I got to meet your family. I can see why you are the way you are.” 

Beomgyu intertwines their hands together, which Yeonjun wholeheartedly welcomes. Yeonjun thinks he understands what it means when they say parting is such sweet sorrow. There’s sweetness in the way they hold on tighter in the face of having to soon let go. 

Beomgyu says, “I’m glad you got to meet them too. You’re important to me and I wanted to share you with them. The steak was the best, right?” 

Yeonjun laughs, “Yes, I now know where you get the amazing meat cooking skills from.” 

Beomgyu laughs too, “It’s like some higher power knew I was going to be your boyfriend.” 

Sometimes, Beomgyu says these things so casually it boggles Yeonjun’s mind. How right they are for each other, that fact which extends to even the smallest things. Yeonjun just gives him a smile, before pressing a soft kiss against his nose and then his mouth. 

Beomgyu’s eyes flutter at the gesture, drawing attention to his pretty eyelashes. “Next time,” Beomgyu says softly, “we’ll have enough time to make up for all the kissing. If we have to kick Soobin out of his own room, I don’t care. Sacrifices have to be made.” 

Yeonjun kisses him again for that, too fleeting to be anything but a butterfly against a mouth. “We can’t be too mean to him. He is housing me for the next two weeks.” 

“It’s not right,” Beomgyu complains and then looks at Soobin who’s about to turn around, “Keep looking away, Choi Soobin. I’m still saying goodbye.” 

“Please, you guys are literally hanging out tomorrow too,” Soobin groans but keeps his back to them. 

Yeonjun laughs and Beomgyu looks back at him, very proud of himself. “Okay, I really have to go. Have a good night. I’ll text you when we get back.” 

He ruffles Beomgyu’s hair and then turns away to start walking back to where Soobin was waiting for them to be done. But before he can get far, Beomgyu pulls him back and towards him, cupping his cheek to press one more kiss against his mouth. It’s short and sweet and Yeonjun has to blink at the suddenness of it all. “Okay,” Beomgyu says, satisfied, “Good night. Just wanted to give you something to remember.”

Yeonjun does not want to leave him at all. But Beomgyu’s already pushing him towards Soobin and Yeonjun just has to make peace with the fact that he’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see him again. 

It’s not right, Yeonjun agrees, to have Beomgyu so close and so far at the same time. 

  
  
  


The first place Soobin and Beomgyu take him to is Apsan Park. 

It seems that Beomgyu is their official designated driver. He comes in his cute little white car and picks them up at Soobin’s house. It’s early enough that Yeonjun has to drag a sleepy Soobin out of the house and push him into the backseat of the car. Soobin puts on his seatbelt half-awake and immediately leans his head against the window, trying to get some more sleep. 

Yeonjun closes the door for him, while he climbs into the passenger seat, leaning over the console to kiss Beomgyu on the cheek, “Good Morning.” 

“Good Morning,” Beomgyu greets back with a smile — golden enough to warm him all over the way the sun does when it rises in the morning, taking with it any reminder of the cold. “Do you think we should get coffee at least? I don’t think Soobin’s going to make it even halfway up at this rate. Did you guys stay up late having your little bro talk?” 

“If by bro talk you mean, playing video games into the dead of the night, then yes,” Yeonjun says, “we did. Maybe if you slept over, you could have joined. It was a good game.” 

Beomgyu laughs, putting the car in reverse and backing out of Soobin’s driveway. “I don’t like playing with you. You never let me do anything until you die and I have to heal you back to life. Besides, we have to make sure we behave in front of our families.” 

Yeonjun smirks, looking out into the window, watching the sun filter through the leaves of the trees, “I’m a good boy, you’re the one who’s always making moves on me—” 

“Shut up,” Beomgyu says without heat, “You like it. Also, you’re DJ and my navigator. If you play XXXtentacion or whoever that guy is, I swear to god—”

“Wow, asshole, that was from my dance playlist—” Yeonjun cuts himself off, shaking his head, “I’ll just play that playlist you shared with me. Also, yes to coffee, babe. I think Soob’s knocked out.”

“Nah,” Soobin responds without lifting his head or opening his eyes, “I’m alive.” 

Beomgyu laughs and sets on to get their drinks, driving to a coffee shop with practiced movements. “We gotta go to this one,” he explains, “Because Soobin is into matcha lattes these days. Supposedly, it makes you less jittery.” 

“Surprisingly, I’ve never tried one. Does it taste good?” Yeonjun asks, opening Naver and doing a quick search on the drink. 

“It’s good, but I kind of like the taste of an Americano better? It’s bitter but it wakes me up,” Beomgyu explains. 

“I want to try it,” Yeonjun says after looking at the photos. “It looks healthy and it says right here that it gives you a smoother energy boost than coffee.” 

“God,” Beomgyu says, looking at him while they wait for the stoplight to turn green, “First, it was yoga, now you’re into healthy beverages, what’s next? Are you gonna stop eating instant ramen?” 

“Who do you think I am?” Yeonjun pushes his face back to look at the road, “I’m health conscious, not dead. I’m not going to give up ramen.” 

Beomgyu snorts, focusing on driving, instead of responding to him. It doesn’t take a long time to get there, as Yeonjun barely gets enough time to enjoy the scenery outside before Beomgyu drives into the parking lot. 

“Do you wanna come down with me?” Beomgyu asks right after he parks the car and takes his seatbelt off, “We can let Soobin sleep in the car. Roll the windows down like he’s our dog.” 

“I am going to throw you off the side of the mountain,” Soobin threatens darkly, but Beomgyu doesn’t even care, smiling brightly as he opens his car door. 

Yeonjun follows him out, laughing. It’s a great start to his day. 

Beomgyu waits for him to catch up so they can walk in together, and Yeonjun laughs again at how cute he is being. 

The coffee shop is small and quaint, the type of place that has a following of both regular customers and instagram clout chasers. 

“This place,” Beomgyu starts, “is actually pretty new. When we left Daegu after Christmas break, this place wasn’t even in here, and then when we came back it’s already become the latest hotspot. Isn’t that weird?” 

Yeonjun says, “I guess. I feel like places like this come and go in Seoul so often that I don’t really think of it as weird.” 

“It just makes me feel like time is really passing by, the way things come and go,” Beomgyu sighs, shaking his head, “Too early for this.” 

Yeonjun laughs, briefly laying his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “All this thinking and you haven’t even had coffee. Come to think of it, you looked super awake already when you picked us up. Did you sleep well?” 

“I slept so early,” Beomgyu admits, “So time would go faster and I can see you again.” 

Yeonjun lifts his head up and looks at him, unable to speak a single word to this boy who says these irresponsible things in public with no remorse. 

“What?” Beomgyu asks, like he doesn’t know what he does to Yeonjun. Considering it’s Beomgyu, maybe he _really_ doesn’t know. Luckily for Yeonjun, their turn to order comes and he’s saved from having to explain his silence. 

“I’ll pay,” He says to Beomgyu, “What do you want?” 

“One iced Americano, please,” Beomgyu says, sweetly, and then Yeonjun says his order and Soobin’s, “Then two hot matcha lattes, please.” 

The barista writes their orders down on the cups and takes Yeonjun’s card for payment. While Yeonjun signs the receipt, Beomgyu sighs, “Wow, it’s so nice having a boyfriend. He pays for everything and takes care of me so well—”

The barista tries to hide her laugh but not hard enough as Yeonjun clearly hears it. He just suffers through it, giving her a polite smile when he’s done. “Come on,” he says to Beomgyu, pushing him to stand at the side, while they wait. 

Beomgyu snickers, reaching up to pinch his cheek, “Are you embarrassed? My Yeonjunnie-hyung embarrassed? I thought you’d like it if I brag about you? Isn’t that like practice dating rule number 50?” 

“It feels like you’re teasing me though,” Yeonjun mutters, staring resolutely at the displays of coffee beans for purchase. 

“You did it to me all the time,” Beomgyu says fondly, “You were merciless and way worse than me. Let me have my fun—”

Yeonjun pouts. It’s true that he teased Beomgyu a lot when they were practice dating, but he didn’t even know Beomgyu liked him then. His reactions were just so cute, and he turned red easily. What was Yeonjun supposed to do? Leave him alone? 

“Unless,” Beomgyu says, tilting his head to the side, “You don’t want me to do that? I do it because, well, you deserve to be teased but also I do mean it? It is pretty nice to have a boyfriend that pays for little things like this sometimes and I like the way you take care of me—"

"No, it's not that deep. You can do it, I'm not uncomfortable or anything." Yeonjun says, patting down a stray hair on Beomgyu's head, "I guess I kind of deserve it. I was kinda mean, huh?"

"Nah," Beomgyu shakes his head, "It's not like you knew. And I didn't really take half of it seriously, because I knew you didn't mean it that way. Also, when I said you deserve to be teased, I didn't mean as retribution for you teasing me in the past in that context. Isn't teasing each other just part of our relationship?"

Yeonjun feels something in his chest dislodge, just the tiniest bit, making breathing just a bit easier — it surprises him. How long had that tightened feeling been there? Yeonjun smiles, "Ah, so when I call you tiny or small, it's completely okay, then? You're not going to get mad and threaten to not respond to my messages?"

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "I knew what relationship I was walking into with you. Also, I reserve the right to get mad, asshole, go grab our drinks, it's ready—"

"Oh, I love it when you call me pet names," Yeonjun laughs, and as he grabs their drinks, he shakes his head, marveling at how their conversations can easily go from serious to joking in a single breath. 

He knows it's something he can attribute to them being friends prior to dating, but it's also something he attributes to Beomgyu's nature. How straightforward he is, how understanding he is. It's something that can surprisingly be hard to find in a person when dating. 

Back at the beginning of his university experience, back when he hadn't met Soobin or Beomgyu, it was something he found frustrating when he was dating around. People never said what they mean, and there were always rules about how you're not supposed to do this or that for fear of sounding desperate or being too interested. The fear of showing your hand, the mortifying ordeal of being known, of caring too much on your own—has been instilled in him and has him putting all his guards up. 

Beomgyu makes him want to put them all down though. 

When Yeonjun hands Beomgyu his coffee and watches the way he happily sips it, the expression so clear on his face, he thinks about how fortunate he is that he never has to guess. That Beomgyu feels comfortable enough with him to never hide how he's feeling. 

Yeonjun knows it’s because Beomgyu trusts him fully with his heart, and Yeonjun’s doing his best to hold it in his hands with purposeful care. 

He hopes he doesn’t disappoint him. 

He hopes he can reciprocate fully someday. Because if anybody deserves Yeonjun’s heart, if he can trust anybody to treat it for the tender fragile thing that it is, it would be Beomgyu. 

  
  


The caffeine does its magic. By the time they arrive at the foot of the trails, everyone is awake, lively, and ready for their planned hike at Apsan Park. 

Soobin stretches his legs and checks to make sure if everyone is good, "Does everyone have their waters?"

"Yep," Beomgyu and Yeonjun answer together. 

"Wallet, sunscreen, towel, and snacks?" Soobin starts, rifling through his bag to check if they had everything.

"Yep, yep, yep, Yeonjun-hyung's face is starting to look like a ghost with how much sunscreen we've applied." Beomgyu says impatiently. "Let's go!"

Soobin rolls his eyes, "What about you, Beomie? Did you remember to put some on yourself?"

"Yes, Soobin, I did." Beomgyu groans. 

"There's no avoiding it, Soobinnie," Yeonjun laughs, putting an arm around Soobin's shoulders, "It's time to start exercising. Is this hike gonna be so bad that you're trying to procrastinate it?"

Beomgyu starts walking towards the trail and they've no choice but to follow. He calls out to them, "This is the easiest hike of the three we were thinking about. I wanted to do the hike at Gatbawi Rock, since there's this Buddha statue at the top of the mountain over there. And it's said that if you are honest and your wish is heartfelt, it might just come true."

"Do it with Taehyun when he comes to visit then. Hyung and I will pass. Right, Hyung?” Soobin pats Yeonjun’s hand on his shoulder. 

Yeonjun has a couple things he’d like to wish for too, but he humors Soobin, “Sure, Soobin. I’ll pass on it too.” 

Beomgyu turns around to give him an unimpressed look, and Soobin sticks his tongue out at him. 

It isn’t Yeonjun’s first time hiking, but it’s been a hot minute since he’s done it. Considering how he’s been cooped up in his dance studio all summer, it feels so nice to be one with nature. The air feels crisp, fresh and cool, which feels amazing coupled with the soft warmth of the sun’s rays. 

They follow a beaten path, dust on their heels and crowns of leaves above their heads. The hike is relatively easily at first, incredibly scenic and the incline can be barely felt. Yeonjun spies different kinds of birds who have made homes out of sturdy branches. He spots a couple squirrels shamelessly languishing against bushes. There’s a bunch of bees and butterflies flitting around too when they pass by a crowd of wildflowers. The last part he decides not to mention to an oblivious Beomgyu who is too busy chatting with Soobin to notice. The mountain doesn’t need to hear him scream today. 

Yeonjun feels so small here, like he’s just a tiny ant moving along and taking his place in the circle of life. It’s easy to forget about the world outside when all one can see are trees, all of which older than all of them combined. How can Yeonjun think about his worries when these trees have borne witness more than what Yeonjun’s short life will ever bear? 

Maybe this is why people love to hike. They come to forget and take up the mountain’s invitation to be part of the world again. 

Eventually though, they end up at the more challenging part of the hike. Yeonjun starts feeling a burn in his calves after going through the fifth set of staircases up. They manage to get through them eventually, though they’ve had to stop a couple times to catch their breath. 

When they come across a fork in the road, Beomgyu asks, “Okay, should we take the nice paved path on the right or should we go the more scenic route?” 

“The easier route,” Soobin says, while Yeonjun says, “The scenic route.” 

The two of them look at each other and then at Beomgyu, who’s vote will break the tie. But Beomgyu just scratches his head, “I don’t really have a preference, maybe rock, paper, scissors?” 

Soobin raises his hand and Yeonjun does too, but before they could throw their choice, Soobin raises his other hand and pleads, “Can we please take the easier route? I’m tired and hungry. Hyung, please?” 

Yeonjun pouts, “It’s not gonna be that bad, Soobin, think of the view! The experience!” 

Soobin pouts pitifully at him, widening his eyes, the way he probably learned from Beomgyu and looks on mournfully at the path that Yeonjun wants to take, “Think about me, hyung. I’m so unathletic and like what if I trip and get injured and then my mom will ask why—” 

With each word out of Soobin’s mouth, Yeonjun feels more and more like the bad person. 

“Fine,” Yeonjun says, giving in, and starts walking to the paved road, leaving Soobin to cheer in happiness. 

Behind him, he can hear Soobin and Beomgyu laughing. It’s no secret that he’s weak for them, though it’s embarrassing how easily he gives in the moment they start pouting. But it’s fine in the long run, Yeonjun thinks, because giving in is cyclical between the three of them. Sometimes, he’s the one who indulges and sometimes, he’s the one being indulged. 

He calls out to them when he hears them whispering to each other behind him. “Choi Beomgyu, Choi Soobin, hurry up. If we’re gonna take the nice, easy route, we might as well walk it together.” 

Soobin and Beomgyu hear him loud and clear, running up to him and each grabbing one of his arms to link with theirs. Soobin rests his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder, “Listen, hyung, we were looking it up and the view is literally just as nice? I’ll take pictures of you and Beomgyu if you want.” 

Beomgyu hums, “Also, after we reach the Observatory, we can go ahead and eat at this nice restaurant. Naengmyeon sounds good, right?” 

Soobin nods, though Yeonjun can feel it more than see it with the way he’s still clinging to him, “Right, right, Beomgyu. Good choice, once again. This will please our Yeonjun-hyung, for sure.” 

“Stop,” Yeonjun says trying to shrug them both off, but they only cling tighter, “I’m not even upset, why are you guys bribing me with food? Why do you _always_ bribe me with food? Do you think I’m that easy and simple?” 

“Hyung,” Soobin starts carefully, “I don’t know how to answer that in a way that would not offend you—” 

Beomgyu snorts, “Yes, hyung, you are that easy. But what’s wrong with being simple? That’s what makes you great to be around. Because it’s easy to make you happy, the vibe is always good. Do you get what I’m saying?” 

Yeonjun chooses to focus on the positive words he’s saying and feels warm, “I get what you’re saying—” 

Beomgyu lets out a pleased sigh, “I’ve become so wise—” 

“—though, I do feel like I’m being manipulated, just the tiniest bit.” Yeonjun tries to say, but he’s immediately shushed by Beomgyu, who closes his eyes and breathes deeply, “It’s time to enjoy the nice scenery now. Please be quiet, Yeonjun-hyung.” 

Soobin barely hides his snort at Yeonjun’s answering sigh. 

The two of them were right though, the view _is_ just as nice. There are birds singing in the trees. There are flowers growing in the bushes lining the pathway. The trees are as green as they can be. The world is alive and awake and breathing just like they are. It’s beautiful in its own way, and as they slowly make their climb up to the Observatory, the trees eventually give way to a clearing and Yeonjun can clearly see the city of Daegu open itself up to his eyes. 

_Ants_ , Yeonjun thinks. They are just tiny ants in this big world. 

“Wow,” Beomgyu says, “This whole time we’ve been living here, and nobody ever told me we had a view this nice here.” 

“It’s true, huh? We’ve lived here for years and this is our first time, with a tourist too, to do this.” Soobin adds. 

Yeonjun gently extricates himself from Soobin’s hold to grab his phone from his pocket, so that he can take some pictures. “I feel like people who are born in the city don’t really ever go to the tourist areas. Like, I only went to Namsan tower to show my cousins around. I probably wouldn’t have gone by myself either.” 

He tries hard to find a good angle, but that’s the problem with views as amazing as this. No matter how hard you try to capture it, the photo never does it any justice. 

He gives up, “Get in the frame, guys. I’ll take photos of you guys instead.” 

The two of them easily follow, choosing to stand where the glass borders that protect the visitors from falling off the cliff are. Beomgyu raises his hand for a peace sign and so does Soobin. 

“Okay, smile,” Yeonjun calls out, snapping multiple pics at once. 

“Do a flower pose!” He suggests and the two immediately change their pose, looking cute for the camera. 

“Come over here, hyung,” Beomgyu calls out, “We need a picture of all three of us.” 

Yeonjun comes to them and looks around to see if somebody would be available to take their picture. Soobin takes his phone instead and his arms are long enough that it feels like they have a selfie stick at their disposal. 

Yeonjun laughs, “Okay, this works too.” 

Yeonjun feels Beomgyu wrap an arm around his waist from behind him and hook his chin on his shoulder, while Soobin tilts his head in their direction and adjusts the angle of his arms to take a flattering photo. It takes them several tries that result in them taking too many photos that will probably never see the light of day. But that’s okay, that’s the thing about memories, they’re worth unearthing even when they look imperfect — for these are happy memories and time can only turn them more beautiful. 

Just before they leave the Observatory, Beomgyu pulls out his phone and hands it to Soobin, “Soobin, can you take a picture of us too? It’s for the lovestagram.” 

Soobin rolls his eyes at the mention of the lovestagram, while Yeonjun stays quiet. He loves the lovestagram. It’s like the cutest thing in the world. He doesn’t care that it’s private or that no one follows them but their own accounts or that it’s just the two of them liking their own photos. It’s cute and it’s theirs and no one can say anything bad about it. 

Soobin mutters, “Don’t you guys have any photos that we just took?” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, linking arms with Yeonjun, the both of them throwing peace signs up, “But I’d have to crop you out of them. Which is honestly so much work and it’ll ruin our page’s aesthetic.” 

Yeonjun laughs at Soobin’s disgruntled expression, “Hey, be nice.” 

“That was the nice version,” Beomgyu says, prettily resting his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder and the two of them pose for a couple photos, switching up from something cute to something cool to something silly. 

They’ll look through it later, when they decide which photo to post. They’ll probably choose something cute; it’s what they typically end up choosing, preferring to save the funny ones for themselves or their phone’s wallpapers. His current one, for example, is a picture of Beomgyu cringing as he tries to bite a popsicle at their last date meetup. Though if you ask Yeonjun, the picture’s not only funny but also cute as hell. It’s not lovestagram worthy though, per Beomgyu’s words. 

In any case, they finally decide to finish their hike, choosing the cable car option to get back down to where their car is parked, rather than to hike back down. He takes pictures during that ride down too, snapping secret ones of Beomgyu and Soobin looking through the glass, their faces focused on the pretty scenery. 

It’s true, Daegu is pretty. But what Yeonjun wants to remember isn’t the place, but the people he came here for. 

They do end up getting naengmyeon for lunch at a restaurant whose name Yeonjun couldn’t quite catch. 

He is so ready to eat by the time they get there. It looks like it’s the same for Soobin, who’s just quietly sitting next to him, staring out the window while they wait for the food to be served. Meanwhile, Beomgyu’s on his phone, an arm crossed over his chest, frowning. 

Yeonjun gently nudges him by the foot, “You okay?” 

Beomgyu sighs, putting his phone face down the table, “Yeah, I’m just annoyed at how long these companies are taking to announce if they want me or not for their internship. How long does it take to figure that out?” 

Ah, Yeonjun thinks, it’s the internship Beomgyu’s been worrying about all summer. Yeonjun has been metaphorically holding his hand throughout the whole process, from the beginning when Beomgyu was crafting the songs, to poring over which songs he was going to present in his portfolio, and all the way to the point where Beomgyu pressed ‘submit’ on his internship application. 

“Did they tell you when they’re supposed to get back to you?” Yeonjun asks. 

“Just sometime this week or next,” Beomgyu says with resignation. “I should just prepare myself for going back to working for the Music Department, which is fine with me. But I just want to know. It's not knowing that’s painful.” 

Soobin leans forward, resting his chin on his palm and elbow on the table, “Just don’t think about it. You’re usually the type that takes the test and then doesn’t look back on the result.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t care about those. I want this more than anything else in the world,” Beomgyu says, “Even if I’ll have a much harder time if I balance this internship with school work, I really want it.” 

Beomgyu groans, putting his head on the table. 

Yeonjun’s heart goes to him, “I heard all the songs you submitted and they were good, Beomie. I think not only will you get good news, you’ll have options. Honestly? I’m more concerned about how you’ll manage school and work. When are you gonna find time to eat?” 

Soobin laughs, “Ya, lift your head, the food is coming.” 

Beomgyu lifts his head, rubbing his forehead as a server sets their bowls of cold noodles in front of them. Yeonjun opens the drawer on the side of the table and grabs utensils for them all, placing it on their trays. 

They all start eating. 

It’s refreshing and hits just the right spot, but somehow Yeonjun can’t quite get into it. 

He can’t stop thinking about the fall semester. 

He doesn’t have a single doubt in his mind that Beomgyu will get at least one internship offer. His mind spins at the reality of that, how demanding it’ll be for Beomgyu, how stressful it’ll be balancing both. His boyfriend is the type that won’t eat when he’s stressed. 

“I feel like Beomgyu will be okay. He’s cute, I feel like some hyung or noona is going to take care of him at whatever company he’ll end up at,” Soobin says through a mouthful of noodles. “I think we should be more worried about you, Yeonjun-hyung.” 

“Me?” Yeonjun says, looking up from his bowl, “Why me?” 

“If Beomgyu’s busy working, who’s going to tell you to stop living in the practice room?” Soobin says, pointing an accusatory finger, “You are like the worst workaholic among us—”

Yeonjun smiles, throwing an arm around Soobin’s shoulder, “Obviously you, Soobin. I know you care and love hyung so much, you wouldn’t let me waste away like that.” Yeonjun rubs his head against Soobin’s shoulder affectionately, while Soobin sits completely still. 

Beomgyu laughs, “Soobin’s gonna be busy too, though. He’s doing research for a professor and is gonna be a teacher’s assistant.” 

“Taehyun will take care of me,” Soobin says confidently, and Yeonjun lifts his head up, displeased, “What about me? Who’s gonna take care of me? I have to be cared for, you—” 

“I’ll take care of you,” Beomgyu says nonchalantly, sipping the broth from his bowl. 

Yeonjun simply pauses, forgetting whatever complaint he has to say. He swallows, trying to get his brain restarted once more, and says, “How are you going to do that when you’re gonna be so busy you won’t even have time for me, huh?” 

“Oh, god,” Soobin mutters, but Beomgyu looks at him, smiles like he knows what he’s doing to Yeonjun for once, and simply says, “You’re a fool if you think I wouldn’t make time for you.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say that won’t come out of him, spilling out as stutters, so he goes back to eating his noodles. Soobin quietly pats him in the back, sensing his struggle. 

He feels Beomgyu’s shoe lightly rest against his underneath the table. 

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to this. 

He is still learning how to be loved too. 

  
  


Hiking drains more of their energy than they expected, so much so that all they want to do after is waste away on Soobin’s couch. It’s fine, Yeonjun thinks, because time spent in each other’s company is never a waste.

They take their turns showering and freshening up, crashing against each other, wet hair dripping water on the white towels on their shoulders. 

Soobin boots up his Nintendo Wii console and puts on Mario Kart for the three of them to play. They unfortunately only had two controllers, so they have to take turns playing. 

In the spirit of fairness, they make one rule: the loser has to give up the controller and the winner gets to decide which track to play. 

This is a great rule in theory, but in practice? None of them foresaw how good Beomgyu was going to be at Mario Kart. By the fifth round, Yeonjun was whining, “This is not fair, why the hell do you keep choosing fucking Rainbow Road?” 

“He used to always do this when we were younger,” Soobin explains as he watches them compete against each other, “And he always uses Waluigi, which makes it even more infuriating.” 

“And you didn’t think to mention it?” Yeonjun can’t believe him. 

Beomgyu just laughs, says nothing as he expertly maneuvers Waluigi down the track. Yeonjun is concentrating hard but he’s getting desperate for a win. Had Soobin not sat between them and acted as a referee, Yeonjun would totally hit the controller out of Beomgyu’s hands and distract him long enough to get ahead of him. 

Yeonjun has two preferences when playing Mario Kart: Princess Peach on a motorbike or Toad on the Mushmellow. He alternates between those two, while Soobin sticks to Luigi each time he gets the controller. 

(In a quick aside, Yeonjun asks him why he keeps choosing Luigi when Mario is right there, and Soobin just huffs, _that’s exactly why I’m choosing Luigi, the forgotten brother_.)

Close to the finish line, Yeonjun finally edges out and passes Beomgyu’s character and he can almost taste the win. His heart beats fast, seeing the finish line, and then at the corner of the screen comes a bloody red shell and hits him, stopping his kart in its tracks and with great tragedy, he loses as Beomgyu speeds past him and past the finish line. 

Yeonjun throws the controller to Soobin, suddenly exhausted, “I hate it here. I feel like I’d accept the loss much better if it wasn’t fucking Waluigi.” 

Beomgyu cackles, “What do you have against my boy, Waluigi, hyung?” 

“Just, who plays with Waluigi? Even Soobin’s choice is weird. Luigi and Waluigi? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” Yeonjun complains and complains, but Beomgyu shakes his head. 

“You’re a sore loser, hyung. Though you’re a terrible winner too, now that I think about it. Just quietly accept that I’m unbeatable at Rainbow Road.” Beomgyu gloats. 

Yeonjun sticks his tongue out and Soobin sighs, putting the controller down. “Enough of this, can we figure out what we’re going to do for dinner? My parents said they’re going out, so we’re on our own.” 

“I think Beomgyu should buy us dinner,” Yeonjun says, “As compensation for his war crimes against me.” 

“What war crimes?” 

“Throwing a red shell at your boyfriend,” Yeonjun crosses his arms, “I was so close to the finish line.” 

Soobin interjects, “Personally, I don’t think it’s a war crime unless it’s a blue shell. That’s worse I think.” 

“Awww,” Beomgyu coos at Yeonjun while hiding behind Soobin’s shoulder, “Is my Yeonjunnie-hyung sad I beat him for the third time at a little game? Is my hyungie pouty?” 

“Okay,” Soobin, done with both of them, stands up, “I’m going to order pizza if that’s good for everyone.” 

Beomgyu perks up, “Yeah, that sounds good. We can watch a movie after too, if that’s something Yeonjun-hyung wants to do?” 

Yeonjun shrugs, “Yeah, that sounds fine.” He crawls to where Soobin was sitting and curls up against Beomgyu. To whom, he whispers, “How are you gonna make it up to me, huh? You couldn’t have let me win even once?” 

Beomgyu reaches up with his hand and starts playing with the hair at the back of his nape, “You wouldn’t have let me win if it was the other way around.” 

Yeonjun pouts, “I would’ve let you win once. Just because you’d look really sad like a loser.” 

“Wow,” Beomgyu gasps, “You are so kind.”

“I know, right?” Yeonjun yawns, resting his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Unlike you. Bad boyfriend.” 

“The worst boyfriend,” Beomgyu agrees, “Are you sleepy? Do you want to take a nap while we wait for dinner to come?” 

Yeonjun wants to say no, that he’ll probably have a hard time waking up and falling asleep at a proper time later on if he does. But it’s vacation and what’s a little more time awake later in the night? 

How can he say no when Beomgyu will be physically here beside him? That it won’t be just the warmth of his voice but also the heat of his body seeping through him? 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun nods and lets his head be guided to the cushion on Beomgyu’s lap. The rest of his body follows in getting settled on the couch. 

Before he surrenders to sleep, he asks, “Can you wake me up when the food is here?” 

Beomgyu smiles, his fingers running through Yeonjun’s hair, “Yes, I will,” and it’s the only assurance Yeonjun needs, choosing to curl on his side and pressing his face against the soft cushion of Beomgyu’s stomach. 

He smells like the body wash Yeonjun used in the shower. 

_They smell like each other._

Have you ever slept inside a dream? 

It feels like floating through a river of warm milk or the way one would sink into a soft cotton candy pink cloud.

It feels like childhood, when happiness grew like mushrooms, bountiful even in places where the sun doesn’t shine. 

When Yeonjun was younger, when the sun was half-way through the sky, he’d often fall asleep on his living room floor. The sun would be too hot and he’d end up covered in sticky sweat. Down his back, the crevices of his elbow, the valleys of his neck. 

(By the way, the mushrooms of happiness did not grow there. Yeonjun is still getting to that part.)

Just when the heat stands at the bridge between uncomfortable and unbearable, his mother walks past him and shakes her head. She calls him her baby with a sigh so fond the air is filled with love. 

Happiness grows and lives in the shade after his mother pulls the curtain over their windows, when she turns on the fan for him and this cool, cool breeze sweeps right through him, and then he begins to sigh too. Out of something. Out of relief. Out of some thing, vague but undeniably good. 

Time becomes something else here. In dreams, time is less like sand and more like water and Yeonjun is floating through it. 

In his memory, he always wakes up when the sun has just set and his mother is cooking dinner and there are simply endless reasons, one after the other, as cause for Yeonjun’s happiness. 

Growing up and out of that, he didn't think he’d feel like that ever again. But he's here once more, proving time, once again, isn't a line, but water, flowing through one part of his life to the next. 

"Hyung," Someone sighs softly. "Should I let you sleep more?" 

And then another voice, "Maybe. He looks too happy asleep. I kinda feel bad waking him up."

"I know." Who talks so softly like this? Like honey dripping from the mouth? "What are you dreaming of, my love?"

"Food probably." 

A chuckle shakes Yeonjun from the cloud he's on and immediately a soothing hand is rubbing his head, like it's saying _you're safe here_. _Keep sleeping_ , the hand says, so Yeonjun does.

"I hope he's dreaming of me. Wouldn't that be so sweet?"

"You don't think he is?"

"I don't know. I can barely think past my own happiness these days. How lucky I am to just have him. How lucky I am he lets me love him." 

"You know he likes you a lot, right? I think you would be in your right to think that. You guys are good, right?"

And then, maybe, Yeonjun starts to think this isn't a dream. 

"We are so good. I think I wake up feeling a little more in love with him. Like what the fuck, Soobin," This voice that Yeonjun wants to go to and hold laughs wetly. "How can there be more? I know he likes me, this fool doesn't know how to hide his feelings after all. I just want to hear him say it back. Maybe someday…"

"Does he know? That you feel like this?"

"I’m sure he does. But I don’t want to bring it up again. I’m sure he feels pressured enough already. He doesn’t need a reminder."

And then it's nothing else. And then Yeonjun opens his eyes, feeling like he's just swam up through miles of water. 

The air is cool. 

He is still so warm. 

He thinks there was something in his dream and he struggles to hold onto it. But everything is water and there's nothing that can be held. 

"Hyung? You awake?" Yeonjun blinks and he sees Beomgyu's face appear before him, a blurry face becoming clear. "Food is here. Do you want to eat?"

"Did you eat already?" Yeonjun asks, throat feeling dry from sleeping. 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "No, I was waiting for you. I'm hungry though, so I'm gonna get up now."

Yeonjun sits up, gives Beomgyu his lap back, and tries to orient himself back to reality. Beomgyu laughs, "Hyung, your hair—" and then tries hard to press down the tufts of hair sticking up from Yeonjun's head. 

It's a lost cause though, for Beomgyu eventually just cups his cheek, rubbing the creases left there by sleep. "Hiking really took you out, huh?"

"Yeah, tired," Yeonjun murmurs, turning his head to kiss the palm of Beomgyu's hand. "Thanks for waiting for me. Let's go eat together."

There is something here in Beomgyu's answering smile, the look in his eyes. He's always saying something without words. 

Yeonjun wants to answer him back. 

He just doesn't know how, at least, not yet. 

  
  


What _is_ love? 

How did the first person know that they were in love? Who told them? 

These days, Yeonjun has television, movies, and a long history to look back to on what people in love looked like. With this much to reference, it should be easy, right? As easy as identifying the color black from white. 

Yeonjun wonders if it was hard for them, if they struggled to put a name to the bubbling, growing feeling in their chest. Or if it was easy, if love for them came as natural as breathing and they knew the moment the heart tipped over the cliff. 

Yeonjun feels a little bit like that first person, like he has nothing to reference and nothing to compare this feeling in his chest to. 

He rubs his chest, wondering how Beomgyu realized he was in love with him. He guesses he could just ask, but it would be weird to ask your boyfriend that as you try to figure out what you feel for him. So he asks the next best option instead: 

Yeonjun throws himself onto Soobin’s bed, whose owner blearily opens his eyes and whose big dinosaur hands smacks Yeonjun’s face away from him. 

Yeonjun immediately clutches his face, “Soobin, what the fuck? That hurt? What if you damaged this pretty face? What are you gonna do?” 

Soobin turns away, bringing his blanket over his head to try to shield himself away, “Please get out. I slept so late last night, why the fuck would you wake me up so early?” 

Yeonjun massages his cheek, right where it got smacked, “We said good night to each other at around ten pm. It’s like eight am right now, that’s like,” Yeonjun pauses, counting quickly with his fingers, “ten hours of separation.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t sleep immediately,” Soobin groans from underneath his blanket, “I called Taehyun last night and I didn’t sleep until like, three am, probably.” 

“I get it,” Yeonjun says, pouting, “But you didn’t have to hit me. Also, scoot over, I want to lie down too.” 

Soobin doesn’t move, so Yeonjun pushes him with his leg and makes space for himself, sighing happily when he lays his head down on Soobin’s pillow. “Are you not going to entertain me? Am I just Beomgyu’s boyfriend to you now? What if I treated you to some of that matcha latte you liked from yesterday?” 

Soobin turns and takes off the blanket, utterly grumpy, “Usually, only Beomgyu can inspire this kind of annoyance in me. But lately…” 

“You say that like it’s going to annoy me,” Yeonjun says, closing his eyes with a peaceful smile on his face. “Be a good host. I feel like we haven’t hung out alone in months. I didn’t come to Daegu just to see Beomgyu, you know?” 

“Is this your roundabout way of saying you missed me? Because you can say it in less words, three words in fact—” 

“Soobin, are you going to make me breakfast or what?”

“Have you ever seen me make breakfast?” 

No, Yeonjun has never seen Soobin make breakfast that wasn’t just putting cereal and milk in a bowl. It’s a nice thought; Yeonjun has always wanted to have breakfast in bed. But unfortunately, if he wants that, he’s going to have to make it. 

It’s why they eventually find themselves at a brunch place, a large stack of pancakes and two bowls of juk between them. Soobin sips the matcha latte Yeonjun bought him happily, “Beomgyu’s gonna kill us when he finds out we went here without him.” 

“Huh?” Yeonjun looks up from his phone, having just finished sending Beomgyu a picture of his breakfast. “What about Beomgyu?” 

“He really wanted to try this place out, so we were saving it for when you arrived here,” Soobin says, using his knife to cut into the pancakes first, “Good thing he’s never gonna find out. Sucks to suck, I told him to let his boss know in advance that he wasn’t going to be available.” 

Yeonjun looks at his phone, the way he’d sent Beomgyu the photo with the name of the place, and thinks, _oh, well_. 

It’s Soobin’s problem now. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t expect you guys to fully drop everything for me. Two weeks is a long time.” 

Yeonjun happily digs into his bowl of juk, carefully blowing on his first bite so as to not burn his tongue. When he deems it cool enough, he finally tastes it and hums in pleasure at how good it is, the flavor just bursting on his tongue. “Dude, this is really good.” 

“Hyung, try the pancakes too,” Soobin says through a mouthful of the lemon blueberry ricotta pancakes they ordered, “We did good by ordering both. They go well together. Sweet and then savory.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t need to be told twice, cutting himself a piece of the pancake, and trying it out for himself. It’s sweet as expected, but it’s tinged with lemon tartness, not unlike the way the sun filters through clouds, brightening up the tongue’s palette. The consistency of the pancake is warm, but pillow soft; and the flavors rest on it perfectly, neither dull nor overwhelming. 

Yeonjun sighs, “This is so good. Beomgyu would definitely like this.” 

Soobin snorts as he digs into his bowl of juk, and Yeonjun raises a brow, “What?” 

Soobin shakes his head, “Nothing. I’m just remembering how you were so in denial about your feelings for him, and now, you can’t go five minutes without mentioning him. Although, you could never shut up about him even before then, so, has anything really changed?” 

Yeonjun scratches his head, embarrassed at the memory Soobin was bringing up. “Sue me, I was confused. You were confusing me, Beomgyu was confusing me, I was confusing me—”

“The whole practice dating thing was confusing, I told Beomgyu, listen, you have to confess your feelings to either get acknowledged or to get over it, and he’s like, no, I don’t think I will,” Soobin rambles, “And I didn’t think much of it, because I thought you would be sensible enough to say no to him, but I overestimated you. Was it the puppy dog eyes? You’re so weak for that—” 

Yeonjun takes a spoonful of his juk and shoves it in Soobin’s mouth, “You are so loud. Do we have to rehash it? I was there. I lived through it.” 

It doesn’t shut Soobin up though, just chews as he thinks out loud, “I guess, it’s fine. I don’t think you guys would have gotten together if it weren’t for it. Practice kissing and practice sleeping together, you guys were gonna end up practice married.” 

Yeonjun stares at him unimpressed, “I get it. I was a goddamn fool.” 

“Aw, hyung,” Soobin covers his mouth as he chews, reaching over to pat his shoulder, “Don’t be annoyed. I think it’s a good story to tell at your wedding, and since I’ll be Best Man, I’ll make sure to make it funny.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, going back to his food, but just as he’s about to take another bite, he finally registers what Soobin had said earlier, “You don’t think Beomgyu and I would have started dating if not for that whole practice dating thing?” 

Soobin leans back in his seat and shakes his head, “Honestly? I don’t think so. I don’t think he would have ever confessed to you if he didn’t feel like he had a chance or wasn’t forced to do it. I think it would have been up to you? And no offense, hyung, considering how deep your denial ran, I don’t think you would have done anything either.” 

Yeonjun looks down at his plate, slowly dragging a piece of pancake through a puddle of maple syrup. 

He understands what Soobin is saying. He knows best how close he was to losing Beomgyu then. 

But there’s a difference between losing him then and what Soobin is implying. The first would have been all Yeonjun’s fault. Beomgyu had laid his feelings out so clearly and it was up to Yeonjun to move and seize his hand. The second implies that nothing would have ever happened between them. The lack of opportunity, of fate never even giving them the chance? It doesn’t sit well with Yeonjun. 

Beomgyu matches him so well in so many ways that there’s no way their relationship isn’t fated. Yeonjun wholeheartedly believes that. “I disagree. I think there would have been something else if not the practice dating. Maybe at a party. Maybe just naturally, I don’t know…” 

Soobin looks at him before carefully saying, “If you say so. But why does it matter? You guys are together now. You shouldn’t think of what didn’t happen or what could have.” 

“How could I not?” Yeonjun puts down his spoon with a sigh, “I like the idea of fate. It feels like assurance, you know? If I fuck up, and I’m trying really hard not to, I like the idea that there’s some external force out there in the world that’ll give me another chance to try again.” 

“There is something like that in the world,” Soobin says, “But it’s not fate. It’s Beomgyu.” 

Yeonjun quiets at that, and Soobin sighs, reaching for his hand, squeezing it in comfort, “What are you so afraid of fucking up on?” 

And isn’t this the thing Yeonjun has been wanting advice on? So why do the words get stuck in his throat? 

Yeonjun shoulders on and forces them out, “It’s the you know what that I can’t say. I want to be able to say it, but I want to absolutely mean it when I do. What the hell is love anyway? What if I never figure it out—” 

Soobin looks at him bewildered and Yeonjun tries to push down the immediate regret he feels at blurting his true feelings out. He fails and backtracks, “I’m sorry, ugh, I’m sure this isn’t what you expected to have with breakfast today—”

“No, no,” Soobin says, trying to reassure him, “I just didn’t expect it. I’m here for you too, hyung. Although, I don’t think I’ll be much help to you. Is it something to think so hard about?” 

Yeonjun looks at him furrowed brows, “Of course it is. This is Beomgyu we’re talking about—”

“Not that, I know it’s important, but love’s a feeling, right?” Soobin says, “I don’t think you’ll find your answer by thinking so hard about it.” 

“But that’s the thing, I’m just not sure. And you know I know nothing about love. Isn’t that why that whole mess back in spring happened?” Yeonjun laments with a sigh. 

Soobin looks at him, “That was one mistake. You made one mistake.” 

“No, I made the mistake over and over again,” Yeonjun corrects. He slumps over his seat, “If you were me, how would you do it?” 

“But I’m not you,” Soobin emphasizes. “You’re only human. Why don’t you forgive yourself? And anyway, I don’t know. I’m not answering your question. But if you want to know what I think, I think you’re definitely in love with Beomgyu. You’re so in love with him, it kind of grosses me out sometimes actually. But I don’t know why you’re asking me.” 

Yeonjun frowns, “Why wouldn’t I ask you?” 

Soobin raises a brow, “Because you’re not going to believe me. Because you won’t be able to accept the truth from anyone but yourself. I can’t just put the idea in your head and you take it as truth. You have to discover it, unearth it with your own hands, before you can believe it.” 

Yeonjun swallows, “Am I really like that?” 

“Yes, you’re more stubborn than you think,” Soobin says, “I know because I’m like that too. It’s Beomgyu that’s different.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t want to think about that. The thought pricks at him, like a fly. Yeonjun ignores it, choosing to move the convo back to something more lighthearted. He pointedly rolls his eyes, “This is really unhelpful. All the articles on the internet are like, you’ll know when you know. Are we the same then? Have you ever been in love, Choi Soobin? Do you love Taehyun?” 

Soobin ignores him, choosing to eat his pancakes instead. Yeonjun kicks his foot under the table and Soobin almost chokes on his food and immediately reaches for his glass of water to gulp it down. 

“Well?” Yeonjun waits, expectantly. 

Soobin glares at him, “What did I tell you about violence? This is Beomgyu’s bad influence at work. Also, for your information, I’ve never been in love either and what I feel for Taehyun is strong but I don’t think it’s love yet. Does that answer your question?” 

Yeonjun grabs his water and sips from his straw, glaring at Soobin. Once he’s stewed long enough, he sighs, “It’s like the blind leading the blind here. I should’ve just sucked it up and asked Beomgyu.” 

“Oh my god,” Soobin runs his hand through his hair, “You’re so dramatic. I’d recognize love because I’ve been loved before. Maybe do that. Seriously, maybe ask Beomgyu.” 

“No,” Yeonjun shuts his idea down, “I can’t just ask him. What am I gonna say? _Hey, babe, can you help me figure out my own feelings for you?_ Do you think I’m that stupid?” 

Soobin only gives him a look and Yeonjun has half a mind to reach across the table to throttle him, when his phone suddenly vibrates, alerting him to a call. When he checks to see who it is, he sees that it’s Beomgyu calling. He accepts the call and puts it to his ear, “Hey, how’s work?” 

“It’s fine. How’s breakfast? The food looked really good,” Beomgyu says, sweetly. 

“It was yummy. You’d really like it,” Yeonjun says, and Soobin in front of him is slowly starting to put the pieces together. Soobin starts glaring at him, gesturing to his neck with knife cutting motions. 

Yeonjun smiles at him, “It was Soobin’s idea, I’m surprised you haven’t been here before.” 

“Soobin brought you there?” Beomgyu asks, still in that sweet tone, “Funny, I remember telling him that I’ve been wanting to eat there for a while now, but was saving it for the day you were here to try it with us. Would you mind passing the phone to him? He hasn’t been answering my texts.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Yeonjun says, letting some sadness color his voice, “But I’ll pass the phone to him, so you can talk to him.” 

Soobin’s mouthing, _you’re the fucking worst, I hate you_ , over and over again, but he takes the phone anyway and sighs heavily when Beomgyu starts raging. 

It’s a funny enough sight that Yeonjun soon enough forgets his annoyance at Soobin’s lackluster answer. 

Maybe Soobin has a point. 

_To recognize love because you’ve been loved before_. Maybe that’s what he needs to focus on. 

  
  


They do eventually meet up with Beomgyu. 

Given that Beomgyu’s been working from the morning until the mid-afternoon, Yeonjun doesn’t really want to drag him around Daegu to be a tourist with him. Not when he’s happy enough to just hang out with him. 

For tonight, they settle on trying something different: cooking a meal for themselves. 

Since Beomgyu is already out and about because of work, they come to the conclusion and text him that he should stop by the grocery store for the ingredients that they need. 

They immediately get a call back from Beomgyu, who was whining from the first word: _Can you guys come with me at least? I don’t even know what to get._

Yeonjun puts him on speaker, just so Soobin can complain back without moving from his spot on the couch: _I literally can’t get up. I ate too much and I slept too little last night. I’m a second away from passing out._

_Who told you to eat that much? Soobin, come on—_

Yeonjun ends the argument before it can fully start: _I can go. If you pick me up, I’ll go with you, while Soobin takes his nap._

That’s how he ends up by the sidewalk of Soobin’s house waiting for Beomgyu. He’s holding a couple reusable bags that Soobin handed him, so they wouldn’t have to use plastic bags. They’re sustainable and cool like that. 

He doesn’t have to wait that long; soon enough, he sees Beomgyu’s car slow to a stop in front of him. 

His cute little driver, looking cool with only one hand on the wheel. Yeonjun bites his lip, but it’s impossible. Beomgyu inspires a smile that can’t be tamped down. 

He climbs inside, tucking their reusable bags on his side, “What’s up, Beomie? How was work?” 

“So slow,” Beomgyu complains, with a roll of his eyes, but he’s smiling by the time Yeonjun reaches over to give his cheek a kiss hello. “Come on, put your seatbelt on.” 

“Bossy, bossy,” Yeonjun shakes his head, but does as he’s told. 

“My car, my rules,” Beomgyu says, “Also, to protect my title as the best driver in the group, I gotta make sure my passenger is all tucked in and safe.” 

Yeonjun giggles, “Best driver? I think you’re the only one competing.”

Beomgyu shushes him, “It’s my pride and joy to be called the best driver. Also, come here, I want to tell you something.” 

“Why? Are you gonna whisper it to me?” Yeonjun raises a brow, “There’s only two of us here, you know?” 

“You have so many questions,” Beomgyu whines, “Just come here.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, but humors him anyway. He leans over the console between them, but to his surprise, Beomgyu meets him in the middle, cupping his cheeks for a sweet kiss. Yeonjun feels heat run through him, all the way down to his toes, as Beomgyu languidly kisses him. Like they have all the time in the world, like nothing else matters but the two of them. 

What this goddamn boy does to him, Yeonjun can’t convey with words. All he can do is kiss him back — give back what Beomgyu’s given to him. 

Beomgyu pulls away first with such a content look on his face, “That’s my reward for working so hard today. Thanks, hyung.” 

Yeonjun blinks, suddenly jarred back into reality, “Huh?” 

Beomgyu pushes him back, so that he’s leaning against his seat again, “Did I kiss you stupid?"

"Oh my god," Yeonjun huffs, swatting his hand, "Just for that comment, I'm not going to kiss you anymore. I miss my boyfriend who'd get all shy and cute when I kiss him. You are so—"

Beomgyu laughs, smugness radiating off him, "You're so cute when you get embarrassed. Let's get going." And then he starts the car up again and heads towards the nearest grocery store. 

Yeonjun sulks at the comment, pointedly staring at the window until Beomgyu quietly touches his hand, and Yeonjun's not sulky enough to not hold his hand. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be actually. He’ll always hold his hand. 

When they get to the grocery store, Yeonjun grabs a cart for them and the two of them enter the store, sighing in relief as they are met with cool air from the store’s air conditioner. 

Before they get started though, he stops to ask, “Do we know what we want to eat tonight? Just so we’re not walking aimlessly.” 

“Hmm,” Beomgyu thinks out loud, “I don’t know, what do you think? Something easy and doable. Soobin gets a little wild in the kitchen and I’m still practicing.” 

“Oh?” Yeonjun looks at him, “Here I thought you guys were going to make me cook for us this whole time. Beomie, were you planning on cooking for hyung?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t give him an answer and instead pulls out of his phone to think of recipes, but his ears are red. 

Yeonjun wants to kiss them. 

But they’re out in public and he doesn’t think anybody would appreciate it if he did that. So instead, he pulls Beomgyu close to him, holds him by the waist and says, “I’d really like it if you cook for me someday. I’ll like it and finish it even if it tastes bad.” 

“You promise?” Beomgyu says, without taking his eyes off his phone, but Yeonjun smiles as he sees that he’s just scrolling mindlessly. “Because I really was practicing this one thing and I have it all planned out when we do this other thing and I’m gonna be so embarrassed if it tastes bad.” 

And this time, Yeonjun can’t help himself. He gives him a big fat smooch on his cheek and coos, “You are so cute, baby. I promise I’m gonna love it, I’m gonna brag about it, whatever you want me to do to convince you it’s the best whatever dish you cook for me I’ve ever had, I’ll do it—” 

“Stop,” Beomgyu pushes his face away, but he’s smiling, so Yeonjun doesn’t care. He’s won all the same. “Anyway, this article here says kimchi fried rice is easy to cook. Should we make that and ramen on the side?” 

“Good enough for me,” Yeonjun says, “I’m assuming Soobin’s house is stocked up with all the seasoning, so I think we should just get onions, the regular and the green kind, instant rice so we don’t have to wait for it to cook, egg, and ham? I think that’s all I usually put when I make it, but is there something specific you want on it?” 

Beomgyu puts his thinking face on; and by that Yeonjun literally means that Beomgyu gets this look on his face when he’s thinking, where you can see the gears turning in his head and his eyes flit from one thing to another, like it’s searching for the answer, and then when he’s thought enough, you can clearly see him get out of that thinking head space. 

It is _so_ cute, Yeonjun could watch him for hours. 

Beomgyu purses his mouth, “Maybe some bacon? That sounds good, right? Can we get that?” 

“Yeah, let’s grab some when we pass by the freezer section. Let’s get the important stuff first,” Yeonjun says, beginning to push the cart. 

Beomgyu clings to his arm, “What important stuff?” 

“The ramen, duh,” Yeonjun says, and Beomgyu laughs, leaning his head against Yeonjun’s shoulder. 

“Ugh, how could I forget?” Beomgyu says, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

They make their way through the isles, grabbing what they need easily arguing only when deciding which brand is better. Not that they have much knowledge on what’s better aside from what their mothers use in the kitchen. They are efficient enough that they end up getting everything they need in record time. 

“I think we should do another round to hit up the snacks. I want more gummy bears,” Beomgyu says. So they go back to the snack aisle and go wild. 

Yeonjun is considering between two flavors of pocky, when he feels arms wrap around his waist. Yeonjun smiles, “What do you think? The almond crunch or the cookies and cream?” 

Beomgyu hooks his chin on Yeonjun’s shoulder, “Neither. You should get the strawberry one instead.” 

“Why? That’s the one you like, right? This isn’t about you, Beomie,” Yeonjun teases, “What about my taste?” 

“You don’t even like sweets,” Beomgyu says, “You only eat a couple bites and then you give it to me.” 

“That’s not true. I do like sweets,” Yeonjun turns around in his arms, “I like youuuuuuuu— “ 

“Ugh, stop flirting with me,” Beomgyu complains, and Yeonjun copies him, mimicking his tone. 

When Beomgyu swats at him, he easily dodges.

Yeonjun teases, “You’re the one who’s always flirting with me. Can’t believe you’re complaining when these days you’re the worse offender between us two.” 

“I never flirt,” Beomgyu claims, stalking away to grab the gummy bears that he’d initially mentioned. 

Yeonjun follows him with their cart full of groceries. “Really? Then what was that in the car? Telling me heart-fluttering things about how I’m your reward today—” 

Beomgyu puts his hand between them, “I don’t know you. Please do not speak to me anymore,” before also grabbing a bag of honey chips and hurriedly walking away from him. 

Yeonjun laughs, following him all the way to the counter. Beomgyu side eyes him, sticking his tongue out as he puts those separator sticks between their groceries. 

Yeonjun simply starts unloading their cart, nonchalantly taking out the separator Beomgyu had put between them. 

The old lady manning the cash register notices and hides her smile as she scans each item. 

When the time comes to pay, both of them pull out their wallet at the same time. Yeonjun pushes him away, “I’m paying.” 

Beomgyu shoves him back, “Stop, there’s literally groceries here for my house. I’m gonna pay,” and maybe Beomgyu is getting better at outsmarting him, for he smiles sweetly at the cashier and hands her his card faster than Yeonjun can offer his up again. He pockets his wallet with a pout and moves towards the bagging area with their bags to get started on it. 

As he’s putting their groceries in the bag, he overhears the cashier say, “Ah, it must be nice to be young and in love, huh?” 

He hears Beomgyu softly laugh and say, “Yeah, it’s really nice.” 

Yeonjun smiles, feeling warm. 

They finish up and walk out with their groceries. Beomgyu keeps trying to grab them off his shoulders, but Yeonjun won’t let him, “Stop, you paid for it already, I’m carrying them now.” 

“Oooh,” Beomgyu sniggers, “You just wanna show off that you work out.” 

It makes Yeonjun laugh so hard that he almost trips over a step he didn’t see and Beomgyu ends up laughing too, although he’s trying hard to look concerned at the same time. 

It’s so nice to just be together like this, doing mundane things like grocery shopping while enjoying each other’s company. 

Though, Yeonjun has to be honest, it makes him feel a little delusional too. Activities like these make him think of a future where they always do chores like this together, the way long-standing couples or married people do. He won’t say that out loud because he knows how it sounds. 

He’s only known Beomgyu for two years and it’s only been a measly four months since they started dating. Those are the statistics of their relationship, that don’t account or explain why Yeonjun can scarcely imagine a future where Beomgyu’s not in his life. 

On their drive back to Soobin’s place, he watches the way the sunlight hits Beomgyu’s face. How it turns his brown hair golden. How it illuminates the slope of his nose. Highlights his cheek. And he comes to the conclusion that maybe the _why_ of it all doesn’t matter. 

What’s more important is what Yeonjun is doing to ensure a future where Beomgyu is always there. 

When they get back to Soobin’s house, they see Soobin lying down, with his hands folded on his chest, still as the dead. It doesn’t look like he’s moved since Yeonjun has left him. 

Yeonjun goes to the kitchen and puts down their bags of groceries, while Beomgyu leans over Soobin’s sleeping form and lightly pats his cheek, “Hey, Soobin. Wakey wakey.” 

Soobin barely stirs though, so Beomgyu’s hand goes from lightly patting it to straight up slapping him awake. 

Soobin rolls to his side groaning in pain, “Who the fuck did that?”

“Wake up, Soobinator. Time to cook dinner,” Beomgyu grabs his arm and starts pulling him off the couch. 

Soobin grunts, “Choi Beomgyu, who let you in my house?” 

“Your mom gave me a key a long time ago,” Beomgyu says, and Yeonjun laughs when he sees Soobin rubbing his eyes, looking extremely disgruntled, as he walks into the kitchen. 

Yeonjun tries to pat down the tufts of hair sticking up on his head, “Hey, Soobin, why are you only wearing one airpod on your ear? What happened to the other one?” 

Soobin doesn’t even acknowledge him, choosing instead to open the fridge to pour himself a glass of water. Yeonjun just laughs again, too used to mornings where he’d see Soobin walking in their apartment, barely processing anything. 

He starts helping out Beomgyu take out what they purchased and sets them aside for cooking. 

Yeonjun asks, “So, are you really going to cook? I can do it, since you’ve been working all day.” 

“I want to cook. Or try at least. You can just sit and watch some tv,” Beomgyu suggests, “I’m not gonna learn if you always do it for me.” 

“Okay, okay,” Yeonjun raises his hands, stepping away, “The kitchen is yours, chef.” 

Beomgyu giggles, “Stop it. But before you go, can you write down the recipe and send it to me? Just so you don’t have to get bothered by us one step at a time.” 

“You can bother me anytime, though,” Yeonjun assures him, “But yes, I will write it down and text it to you.” 

And so, he does.

Beomgyu and Soobin start to prep their ingredients for the kimchi fried rice. Yeonjun does his best to stay out of his way, even though he’d rather hover and fuss over them right now. He settles for watching them from the couch. 

Beomgyu catches him watching though and gestures at him to watch the tv, so he has to at least pretend to do that. He immediately sneaks a look back to the kitchen though, once Beomgyu is too busy to monitor him. 

Beomgyu looks like he’s thinking really hard about how he’s supposed to peel the onion and chop it. He spends maybe thirty seconds pondering before finally turning to Soobin and asking him how to ‘dice’ them. 

Yeonjun is confident they can do this. Soobin calls him every time he makes tteokbokki and this is the only step he doesn’t have to consistently reteach him. So, Yeonjun figures he can look away for this part and check again on them in a couple of minutes. 

Barely five minutes later though, he hears a scream come from the kitchen and immediately Yeonjun bolts up in panic. Heart pounding, he sees Beomgyu with his eyes scrunched up, tears on his face, and his finger bleeding. Soobin is looking at the chopped onions covered in blood with horror, “Oh my god.” 

Yeonjun moves fast. He pulls Beomgyu away from the chopping board, but all he can is red. 

To Soobin, he says, “Can you clean it up? I’ll take care of him and see how bad it is. What happened?” 

“He was just chopping onions, I was too busy heating up the rice so I saw just as much as you,” Soobin says as he grabs the chopping board. He discards the knife in the sink and throws the bloodied onions in the trash. 

Yeonjun sighs, turning to Beomgyu who’s trying to wipe his tears with his sleeve, “Does it hurt a lot?” 

Beomgyu sniffs, “Not really, I’m only crying because the stupid onion fumes hurt my eyes.” 

Yeonjun breathes a sigh of relief at that, “Okay, that’s good. Let’s get this cleaned up, hm?” 

He pulls him to the nearest bathroom, turning on the light and closing the door behind them. 

He starts by turning the faucet on to wash the blood off of Beomgyu’s finger. As the water washes away the blood, he can begin to clearly see the small cut on his finger. It really doesn’t look that bad. 

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu, who still has his eyes closed, looks at the trail of tears on his face and thinks, _what am I to do with you?_

This boy who cries as easily as he laughs pulling all the strings of his heart towards him. 

Yeonjun reaches up and wipes his tears away, “What hurts more, your eyes or your finger?” 

“My heart,” Beomgyu says with so much drama that it makes Yeonjun laugh. “This is so humiliating, even Soobin hasn’t cut himself with a knife.” 

Yeonjun smiles, “Okay, I’m clearly more worried than I need to be if you can keep making jokes like that.” 

Beomgyu pouts, “I mean, it does hurt a bit, but it could be worse. I could have chopped off a finger.” 

“I love how optimistic you are,” Yeonjun says, “Do you know if Auntie keeps a first aid kit in here somewhere?” 

Beomgyu tries to open his eyes, but it still hurts by the way he closes it immediately, “Um, I think there should be one under the sink.” 

Yeonjun crouches down and luckily, Beomgyu is right. 

He sees a white bag with a red cross on it towards the back of the cabinets. He reaches for it and when he opens it, he sees exactly what he needs. He grabs the single use alcohol packets and tears it open.

He warns, “Okay, this might hurt a bit, but I wanna make sure the cut is clean, so I’m gonna clean it with alcohol.” 

Beomgyu takes a deep breath, “Just go for it.” 

Yeonjun does his best to clean it as gently as he can. Beomgyu is a champ though, barely flinching even though Yeonjun knows it probably hurts. He wipes Beomgyu’s hand dry and then finally reaches for the bandaids, letting out a laugh when he sees that the only ones available are Hello Kitty themed. 

“Why are you laughing?” Beomgyu asks, eyes still closed. 

“Auntie keeps the cutest bandaids.” Yeonjun says, “Which one do you want? The pink one or the red one?” 

“Oooh,” Beomgyu says with interest, “Surprise me.” 

Yeonjun chooses the red one, simply because he likes Beomgyu in red. He peels off the backing and wraps Beomgyu’s injured finger with the bandaid. “There,” Yeonjun says, “Already better.” 

Beomgyu carefully opens his eyes, eyelashes wet with tears, and smiles when he sees the bandaid, “This is pretty cute.” 

“Cute bandaid for my cute little chef,” Yeonjun teases, “So hardworking for me.” 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes and turns away, “Stop babying me. You’re always calling me cute and little.” 

It makes Yeonjun pause. 

The two of them are playful. Beomgyu had sounded playful when he said it. It’s something he knows he should chalk up to their typical banter, something in line with their usual teasing, like when Yeonjun would call him small and Beomgyu would then get mad and roll his eyes about how Yeonjun needs to stop acting like their height difference is more than ten centimeters. 

Beomgyu is not serious, Yeonjun knows that. 

But each time Beomgyu complains about how Yeonjun babies him too much, it brings back a memory he’d like to forget. 

That’s the awful thing about the brain, right? It either buries the truth so deeply you forget about it or it brings it up again and again with a single trigger. 

This memory, his brain loves like a record. Tucks it in somewhere safe until it’s time to listen. Wipes it clean so it sounds crystal in its clearness. And then it presses play. 

The first track is a cacophonous blend of some song on the Top 40s Chart, laughter, and an encroaching silence that muffles it all out. The second track is breathless silence. The third track is the terrified beat of Yeonjun’s heart. The fourth track is Yeonjun’s own voice, asking: _what’s wrong, baby?_

The fifth track is his brain’s favorite. Beomgyu’s icy voice saying: _you’re not my boyfriend, don’t call me that. i’m not a child, you don’t have to bend over backwards to take care of me._

When this record plays, the things he was so sure of (like the playful quality of Beomgyu’s complaints) blur like reflections in water. There’s a tightness in his chest that can’t be eased until he’s sure Beomgyu really doesn’t mean it. 

“Do you,” Yeonjun carefully starts, “want me to stop, Beomgyu?” 

“Yes, you should—” Beomgyu says smiling, but he freezes when he turns back to face Yeonjun, “What’s wrong?” 

Yeonjun clears his throat; he busies himself with cleaning up the sink and throwing the first aid kit supplies they used up. “It’s nothing, I was just wondering if you were serious or not about it. Because I could definitely stop doing that if you hate it—” 

“I was joking, you know that, right?” Beomgyu frowns, “I always am—” 

“Yes, but it’s just that, you’ve said it before, that you didn’t like it when I took care of you like this and you had said it so seriously then, that I’m not so sure sometimes…” 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu breathes, hand reaching up to touch Yeonjun’s cheek but he stops just before he can, and pulls away and Yeonjun doesn’t know why, but it upsets him even more. 

_I’m making him uncomfortable._ _He doesn’t think he should touch me._

“You…” Beomgyu continues, brows scrunching up, as he tries to find his words, “You shouldn’t even be thinking about that time. I was hurt and lashed out at you, because you said you thought of me like I was your little brother. You know I didn’t mean it, and you certainly didn’t deserve it. I was being so unfair and you know I’m sorry that I said all that.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t realize he’s gripping the first aid kit tight until Beomgyu places his hand on top of his, “I love it when you take care of me. It’s how you show your affection for people and you like doing it, so how could I hate it?” 

“You’re okay with it?” Yeonjun says after a moment, after he’s sure his voice won’t tremble, “You’re not just saying that, right?” 

“Yes, I’m sure,” Beomgyu affirms, and then he looks at him with concern, “This isn’t the first time I’ve joked about this, though. How long have you been sitting on this?”

Yeonjun can’t say. 

And when Yeonjun doesn’t answer, Beomgyu moves close, gathers him up in his arms for a warm hug, and presses his face against Yeonjun’s neck. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m not gonna joke about it anymore. I’ll just suffer through the embarrassment. I’ll let you put Hello Kitty stickers on every wound I get and shamelessly ask you to kiss it better. I’ll do all of it even though my pride gets hurt, so you know that I actually really like it—” 

Beomgyu pulls away, so he can take a look at Yeonjun’s face. “Hyung. Talk to me.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t know how he does it, but Beomgyu always knows the right words to say to comfort him. The tightening in his heart has eased and he breathes, just a bit easier than before. 

Anyone else would have Yeonjun feeling even more hesitant and anxious. Anybody else would have deflected and refused to be vulnerable. But not Beomgyu. 

Beomgyu’s heart is so open to him that they can have uncomfortable conversations like this over bathroom sinks, after putting Hello Kitty stickers on. 

Yeonjun wants to return that gesture of openness tenfold, but he is still so clumsy with his words. Forgive him, he is a dancer after all. He was always going to be better with actions over words. 

It doesn’t mean he can’t try. 

“I adore you,” Yeonjun manages to say, though it feels like a word too small to cover the gratitude he feels for the boy. To make up for it, he presses a soft kiss against Beomgyu’s mouth too, maybe another one or three, then says, “I still think you are too good to me.” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “And I still disagree. I think I’m good to you in just the right amounts. 

They will just have to agree to disagree.

Beomgyu untangles himself from him, but in the process of doing that, he pauses, putting his hand right over where Yeonjun’s heart sits in the cavity of his chest. 

“Did it hurt here?” Beomgyu murmurs, and Yeonjun’s heart thuds under his hand. 

Thud, thud, thud. 

That’s the heart saying yes, and Beomgyu must be fluent in the language of his heart for he leans and presses a kiss against it. “There, I’ve kissed it where it hurts. All better now than it was before.” 

Even through the layer of his shirt, Yeonjun can feel the warmth of his kiss like he did it against his bare skin. 

Beomgyu raises his finger, the one with the Hello Kitty bandaid, and presses it against Yeonjun’s lips, “Kiss this one better too.” 

And Yeonjun does, kisses it once, kisses it twice, and then one more time, just to be sure. 

A kiss for every word he couldn't say. 

Beomgyu smiles, “Thank you. Now, let’s go back out there, before our best friend burns down his own kitchen. 

When they come out though, Soobin is handling himself just fine. He has chopped a new batch of onions and finished preparing the rest of the ingredients. All that’s left is for them to finally start putting them in a wok. 

Soobin throws an arm around Beomgyu, “What’s the verdict, bestie? Did you lose a finger or what?” 

“It’s just a tad worse than a papercut, Soobin,” Yeonjun says, turning on the stove, “He was crying because of the onion fumes.” 

“Wah,” Soobin mimics a baby’s cry, pinching Beomgyu’s cheek, “You’re such a baby. Actually, you and hyung are. He always cries when he cuts the onions too.” 

Yeonjun bristles, putting oil in the pan, “I cried once! Also, hand me the garlic you chopped and the onions too. I’m taking over.” 

Both Beomgyu and Soobin begin to complain. Soobin pushes at his shoulder, “Hey, you’re supposed to relax over there.” 

“I’m hungry and you guys can still help,” Yeonjun complains, “Boil water for the ramen, Soobin. And then Beomgyu, can you cook the bacon and eggs in a separate pan?” 

They both grumble but follow his requests. Slowly, but surely, Yeonjun can see their full meal materializing before his very eyes. Soobin and Beomgyu watch intently over his shoulders as he sautees the kimchi, watching the juice of it bubble in the pan. 

“Okay, you guys can participate,” Yeonjun says, stepping back and the two of them eagerly turn to him, like cute little puppies waiting for a ball to be thrown and fetched, “Throw in the rice after a minute and then add the rest of the kimchi juice in it.” 

He hands Soobin the spatula as Beomgyu grabs the rice, though he looks back at Yeonjun for reassurance before throwing it in. Soobin immediately mixes the rice in, while Beomgyu goes and grabs the rest of the kimchi juice. He throws that in too and as they mix it, they’re delighted to see it slowly start to look like the kimchi fried rice they’d buy at a restaurant. 

Yeonjun goes and grabs the sesame oil and salt for them, “I usually start to season it at this point, but I don’t really have specific measurements. I just kind of eyeball it.” 

Soobin takes it from him and clumsily adds too much too fast onto their pan. “Oh god,” Beomgyu says, but Yeonjun shrugs, “I think it’ll be okay. Better than salt actually.” 

Soobin sighs, “Yeah, that’s harder to save. How long do I keep stirring?” 

“Just until everything’s mixed in. Which reminds me,” Yeonjun reaches over the pan to reach for the pieces of bacon that Beomgyu cooked. “Time to add this and then all you guys have to do is mix it with seaweed flakes and sesame seeds.” 

It’s easy enough for them to follow, so Yeonjun finally leaves them to it, pretty confident he’ll be able to eat within the next ten minutes. 

Soon enough, he finds himself sitting at the table waiting for Beomgyu to finish plating his meal. Yeonjun looks at his hardworking back, hunched over the plate, “You guys don’t need to do this. I’m gonna ruin it in five seconds.” 

“Shut up,” Beomgyu says, “The visuals matter too.” 

Finally, Beomgyu finishes the plating and sets their meals on the table. 

And well — he’s right, the visuals do matter. He can’t believe the meal looks so appetizing and professional looking, even though he knows Beomgyu and Soobin did eighty percent of the work. 

Maybe he should really start giving them more credit. Even if they had a knife accident within the first five minutes he stopped paying attention. 

“So?” Soobin gestures at him to eat, “You should try it first.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told. He scoops a spoonful of rice, making sure to top it with as many of the ingredients they used as possible, like the bacon, the egg, and the green onion. He blows on it carefully as to not burn his tongue before finally taking a bite. 

He chews it, thinking that he can definitely taste the extra sesame oil Soobin had dropped in. But it’s good, the flavors come through and if he adds a little bit more spice to it, it would be a great meal. 

Beomgyu whispers to Soobin, “Do you think he likes it?” 

“I mean, he hasn’t spit it out yet,” Soobin whispers back. “But he eats everything, so I don’t know—”

“It’s good,” Yeonjun says, putting an end to their commentary, “I love it because you guys made it. Case closed.” 

Beomgyu giggles putting his hand up for Soobin to high-five and then they start eating too. Their eyes are wide at the taste, marveling at how well it turned out despite the mishaps. But Yeonjun thinks the food tastes good, because simply, it’s made with love. 

After they finish everything and Soobin’s grabbing the ice cream in the fridge for dessert, Beomgyu turns to him, a bit of rice stuck on the corner of his mouth, “Are you satisfied, hyung?” 

Yeonjun smiles, reaching over to get it for him, “Yeah, I am.” 

It’s a new day, and with it, comes the promise of new memories. 

This day, though, seeks to bring up the past. 

“So what are we doing today?” Yeonjun yawns, resting his head on Soobin’s shoulder as they wait for Beomgyu to pick them up again.

Soobin is surprisingly the more awake one out of the two of them today. Soobin pats his head, “We wanted to show you the places that we used to hang out at all the time. We figured it’d be a nice way to roam the city.” 

“Aww,” Yeonjun coos, though the sleepiness in his voice just makes the teasing sound fond, “You guys want to share your childhood with me?” 

Soobin rolls his eyes, “It’s for us to revisit too. We actually haven’t been to these places in a while either.”

Yeonjun hums, a sleepy smile on his face, “It’s sweet. I know what you guys are doing and it’s sweet.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Soobin snorts, “But I’ll take credit for it anyway since it seems very positive in your book.” 

Yeonjun laughs, lifting his head and slapping Soobin’s shoulder, “What are you so shy for? Isn’t this because I said I was jealous of you guys once?” 

“Ah, when you admitted you were jealous of me?” Soobin smirks, “That you thought Beomgyu and I were knee deep in denial about being in love with each other? That was the funniest thing I’ve heard all year, by the way. If you thought that and still decided to kiss our bestie, then man, either the bro code doesn’t exist or you just really wanted to kiss him, and personally I think it’s the latter—” 

“It’s so funny,” Yeonjun interrupts with a glare, “how people think introverts are quiet, when really they can never shut their mouth—” 

Soobin laughs, “Seriously, though, that wasn’t our intention. We really just wanted to show you all the fun stuff we love, because that’s Daegu for us. But if it helps with that too, then it makes me even more glad that we’re doing this.” 

Yeonjun drops his glare, choosing to look down at his shoes instead. They are certainly easier to look at than Soobin’s earnest eyes. “Your relationship is more daunting than you think. I don’t think I’m jealous in the same way as I was before, anyway. I’m a little bit some of the time, but only because of the time you guys had together in the past.” 

“Time,” Soobin repeats, “I get it. I’m doing long-distance too and it’s something I wish I had more of. I’m excited to get back to school. I wanna be able to see him more often.” 

Yeonjun smiles sadly at him, “Is he not going to come down to visit you before break ends?” 

“He says he’s trying to get his work schedule switched so he can have next weekend free, but he’s not sure.” Soobin pulls out his phone, and Yeonjun sees that he doesn’t even make a move to unlock it. He’s just staring at Taehyun’s photo on his screen. Yeonjun can more than relate, he’s done that exact thing numerous times. 

A car honk startles them out of their conversation. Soobin curses as he almost drops his phone and curses again when he sees it’s Beomgyu’s car who honked, “Why do people honk, hyung? Can’t we all just drive in silence?” 

An excited Beomgyu pulls to a stop in front of them. He greets them a bright and loud good morning when they get in the car. 

Today, Yeonjun lets Soobin get the passenger seat, and he’s pleasantly surprised when he opens the door in the backseat to a pink box, “Oh? What’s this?” 

“Surprise!” Beomgyu cheers, “It’s the reason why I took a while. I got us some donuts for breakfast.” 

Best boyfriend in the world, Yeonjun thinks. 

He climbs in, taking the box to his lap and opens it. He marvels at the sight of a dozen donuts, golden rings of fried dough, glazed in all the colors of the rainbow. They’re warm in his lap too, they must have been freshly baked. “Soobin, do you want some?” 

“What flavors are there?” Soobin says, turning in his seat to look over. 

Yeonjun turns the box to him. “Beomgyu, what flavors did you get?” 

Beomgyu says, “I just got a random dozen. I want the chocolate one though.” 

“Uh,” Soobin frowns, “You can’t eat and drive.” 

“I can eat it right now before we go,” Beomgyu whines and Soobin opens his mouth to retort, but Yeonjun is already handing the donut to Beomgyu. 

And this time, it’s Soobin who whines, “Hyung!” 

“I am choosing for you, Soobin, because you’re taking too long,” Yeonjun chooses a pink donut with sprinkles on top and hands it to him, “Something to brighten you up.” 

Beomgyu giggles around his donut, accidentally getting chocolate all over his mouth. 

Yeonjun hands him a napkin to wipe his mouth with, but instead of taking it, Beomgyu just pushes his face closer. 

_Oh_ , Yeonjun thinks, turning pink. Carefully, he wipes Beomgyu’s mouth for him and doesn’t stop even when Soobin proceeds to make puking noises.

If Yeonjun was a weaker man, this would be the point he’d get too embarrassed to continue. But this is Yeonjun’s vacation, a time he is savoring before he has to go back to being long-distance again with his boyfriend. So _no_ , Yeonjun will not be embarrassed. In fact, he will shamelessly take his time to wipe Beomgyu’s mouth just for you, Soobin. 

When making puking noises don’t work, Soobin resigns himself to suffering through it. 

Soobin takes the aux cord and plugs his phone in, “As justice for torturing me like this, the both of you get no input for what music plays in the car.” 

Some soft indie song begins to play in the background. Familiar enough that Yeonjun can hum to it, but not enough to sing the correct lyrics to. 

When Yeonjun is done cleaning Beomgyu’s mouth, he leans back against his seat and finally gets a donut for himself. He picks a plain donut, clear glaze all over it, a fit for his tongue’s palette.

It’s warm and it’s soft and when he bites into, it tastes like indulgence, sweet enough to last him all day. 

Some things just don’t go as planned though. 

For one, this is the most bastardly tour Yeonjun has ever been on. 

It starts off normal enough at their old high school. 

Soobin gives him a very informative story of how they came to school every day. Youngster Soobin and Youngster Beomgyu in their high school uniforms, running to the school’s front gates because they’ve taken the latest possible bus instead of an earlier one. It’s the only time he ever ran outside of physical education classes, Soobin says. 

When they get there though, they find out that the actual building is closed for renovations. But instead of moving on, they decide to explore the open grounds. 

To be honest, it’s terribly boring, but Yeonjun knows they’re just trying to share their childhood memories, so he says nothing, only does his best to sound attentive.

Soobin and Beomgyu don’t seem to care though. They’re lost reminiscing. 

Beomgyu sighs as he looks at a random bench, “Remember when you tripped and fell in front of our seniors and you sat and ate here instead of the cafeteria because you were embarrassed?” 

Soobin looks at him weirdly, “No, dude, I don’t. That was you.” 

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, frowning, “Are you sure?” 

Soobin pats his shoulder, “I think I would remember doing that. You’ve repressed this terrible memory so hard you thought it was me who did it? Beomie, come on!” 

They pull Yeonjun towards multiple parts of the ground and do this several more times to different random objects.

Beomgyu holds onto his arm and points to a random spot in the field and says, “Oh, that’s where Soobin got dumped for the first time!” 

And then Soobin clings to his arm too and says, “No, but look over there, that’s where Beomgyu got confessed to for the first time.” 

Yeonjun is sure that they all have some deep sentimental value, even if it’s just a random trash can by their favorite tree. 

He just hopes his sigh of relief is not heard when they announce they’re done and head over to lunch at McDonald’s. 

“Now that I think about it,” Soobin says, looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu. “Beomgyu really does have a type.” 

“I do?” Beomgyu asks, nibbling on a fry. 

Soobin nods, like he’s the expert of Beomgyu fun facts, and begins to enumerate each defining trait, “First, they were all older than you.” 

“No, they were not,” Beomgyu denies. 

Soobin rolls his eyes, “Yeah, they all were. Thinking about it. Shotaro, Sunwoo, Serim? They’re all in the grades above us.” 

It’s a bit weird to think about Beomgyu liking other people. Yeonjun has never really thought about it, aside from the obvious. 

Beomgyu sighs, “Alright, is that all you have?” 

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” Soobin says, gleeful, “Okay, next, you all started liking them because they did something nice for you.” 

“I did not!” Beomgyu denies again though he seems to become more doubtful by the second.

“Yes, you did. I remember because each time you’d like someone new, you could never shut up about it,” Soobin lowers his voice, then softens it, in a very accurate imitation of what Beomgyu sounds like when he’s touched about something, “ _Soobin, you will never believe what Sho-chan did for me today. He was in front of me at the caf, and when we both reached for the last strawberry milk, he gave it to me instead. I think I’m in love._ ” 

“Shut up!” Beomgyu laughs, “Was that all it took? Was that really all it took?” 

“Oh my god,” Soobin laughs too, “Yeah, it was really always something small. Every stupid time, I’d think, wow, is this really something to obsess over? They were probably just being nice.” 

Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu, who’s scratching his head in embarrassment. He pictures a much younger Beomgyu, in his school uniform, wide-eyed and cheeks pink like his favorite strawberry milk. He wonders if this guy he crushed on ever liked him back. Beomgyu probably looked so cute, the guy must have, right? 

Beomgyu sniffs, “I was a very impressionable high school student. I blame my mom actually. Why was she so addicted to those romance dramas? Maybe if we watched, I dunno, thrillers instead I wouldn’t have been like that.” 

Soobin shrugs, “Nah, I think you just like that kind of thing, to be honest. Also, I think one more thing they all have in common is that they were the type of person you could stare at from afar.” Soobin snaps his fingers, remembering something, “Oh god, and you’d write them the sappiest love letters and leave them in their lockers.” 

That captures Yeonjun’s attention. “You wrote them love letters?” he asks Beomgyu the same time Beomgyu looks up from his food and glares at Soobin, saying, “How did you know that? I never showed them to you.” 

Beomgyu turns to Yeonjun, chastened, as if suddenly remembering that his boyfriend is sitting next to him, “Oh, yeah, I did.” 

“How come you’ve never written me a love letter?” Yeonjun pouts. 

“Well, you see, um,” Beomgyu is flustered at the question, his hand reaches over to grasp at Yeonjun’s arm, “Why does it matter, hyung? We’re dating, aren’t we?” 

“Yeah, but how come you wrote them love letters and you didn’t write me any?” Yeonjun knows he’s being petulant. Truth to be told, he hardly cares about all these other guys before him. It’s just that, Yeonjun’s never received a love letter before, from anyone. And if Beomgyu is the type to give them, then Yeonjun definitely wants one. 

A love letter made and filled with Beomgyu’s longing and adoration. 

Soobin jokes, “Well, hyung, maybe if you went to school with us, Beomgyu could have crushed on you too and written you these sappy love letters. You fit right in with all of them.” 

“I do?” Yeonjun asks, “How so?” 

“Hyung,” Soobin shakes his head, disappointed, “Were you not paying attention this whole time? His type is tall, older guys who are nice to him.” 

“That’s so vague, Soobin, there’s a lot of guys like that,” Yeonjun gestures to Beomgyu’s face, “Look at him, who wouldn’t be nice to someone this cute?” 

“This just goes back to my point, if you went to our high school with us, Beomgyu would have definitely crushed on you and you would have gotten his letters.” 

“This is so tragic,” Yeonjun says, dramatically, “Cursed by fate to meet in uni instead—” 

“Don’t say that,” Beomgyu bristles, dropping his grip on Yeonjun’s hand, but Yeonjun just laughs and tries to grab it back. But Beomgyu won’t let him, “Why would you say that? I’m glad we didn’t meet in high school, imagine if I had a crush on you then and I followed you with that all the way to university? Do you want me to look like a real loser? Let me keep some of my dignity.” 

Soobin can’t help but add, “Um, you literally asked to practice date—”

Yeonjun turns to him with a warning in his eyes, but Beomgyu does better and tells him, “Be quiet.” 

Beomgyu is sulking with his fries now. Yeonjun looks at Soobin in panic, but Soobin refuses to engage further. Only shrugs to say, _this is between the two of you_. 

Yeonjun tries on him, reaching over to pat down a stray hair sticking up on Beomgyu’s head, “Beomie, you wouldn’t have looked like a loser. You don’t think I would have liked you if we met earlier? I bet you were super cute, no, actually I’m _sure_ you were super cute—” 

“You wouldn’t have,” Beomgyu says with a certainty that takes Yeonjun aback, “I looked like a baby. You would have found me cute in that little kid way.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t know what to say. He can’t speak for his past self. The person he was in high school can’t even fathom what he’d be like now, who he’d meet and be with. He’s been a dancer for more than half of his life, but there isn’t enough creativity in him to have been able to imagine Beomgyu. 

The silence stretches on awkwardly and Soobin looks on unsurely between them, starting to turn in his seat to give them some privacy to talk it out, but then Beomgyu sighs, then puts on a smile for both of them, “Anyway, enough about that, where else should we go today? The arcade we used to hang out at after classes would be good, right?” 

Yeonjun knows he shouldn’t let this one go just yet, but they’re in public, with Soobin, and he really doesn’t know what to say to make it okay. He doesn’t understand how a small joke could hit a nerve. He turns to Soobin again, hoping for some clue, but Soobin seems just as helpless as him. 

Soobin just tentatively nods to the suggestion, “Yeah, I don’t see why not. It’s always fun to play some games.” 

Yeonjun hurriedly nods too, “Yeah, that’s a good idea. It’ll be good while we digest what we ate.” 

“Yay,” Beomgyu does a little cheer, but it seems a little lackluster compared to how he usually is. Yeonjun hates that he’s the cause of it. “Okay, I’m gonna go use the restroom first and then we can go.” 

Yeonjun also knows that this is when he should follow him but he can’t. His body feels frozen and stuck to his chair. The moment Beomgyu is out of sight though, Soobin immediately smacks his arm, “Dude, what the fuck!” 

“Why would you hit me? This is your fault! Why would you bring up the practice dating?” 

Soobin gapes at him, “He was not mad about that! I always joke about it and he’s never been mad mad. It was because you were asking for love letters. Greedy!” 

“How the hell is that greedy? Is it so wrong for me to want them? I’m his boyfriend.” Yeonjun sighs. 

Soobin scratches his neck as he gets lost in thought, “I think it’s wanting to have met in high school part that bothered him. We were laughing about it, but I think there’s something sad about all those guys he used to like.”

Yeonjun nods, listening. 

“They were all unrequited. One of them had a girlfriend, another was leaving after the school year ended to go back to Japan, and so on and so forth. To be honest, Beomgyu’s the full package, right? He’s nice, funny, and it kills me to say it, but he’s definitely good looking. You know that, and yet you wonder, how come he’s never dated anyone but you? He’s rejected so many people because the ones he likes are always unattainable.” 

_Oh_ , Yeonjun thinks. “And you’re saying I fit right in with them?” 

“You were supposed to be,” Soobin says, not unkind. “I think it’s surprised everybody how this all turned out. Not the part where you fell for him after the practice dating. That part was inevitable. It’s the part where you said yes in the first place, how you kept saying yes. You weren’t supposed to.” 

“Supposed to,” Yeonjun repeats, “What I should, shouldn’t, and have done, is that what it all comes down to?” 

“Not to get philosophical at a McDonald’s, but isn’t that all there is? At the end of the day, isn’t that what we are measured by?” 

And how does Yeonjun measure up if they look at that? 

Before he could answer though, Beomgyu comes back and they’re forced to cut their conversation short.

All Soobin does is put an arm around his shoulder, a gesture of comfort that feels out of place considering it’s Beomgyu who was upset. Though, he looks completely fine now, as if the conversation they had earlier didn’t happen at all. 

Beomgyu acts like that throughout the rest of the day. Completely fine, like Yeonjun’s just imagined the whole thing. 

Beomgyu is laughing as he guns down some zombies at the arcade. Beomgyu pouts at him when the crane machine eats all his coins. Beomgyu cheers when Yeonjun beats the all-time high score on the Test Your Strength Hammer game. 

When they move on from that and finally start souvenir shopping for Yeonjun’s family, Beomgyu is attentive, clings to Yeonjun’s arm as he points out fun things he could buy. Beomgyu speaks almost too softly at the store, but it’s okay—Yeonjun has learned to train his ear, the way one would tune the radio at a specific station, so that he’s ready to hear and respond to whatever Beomgyu has to say. 

So when Beomgyu murmurs questions like, _what does your mom like?_ Yeonjun can easily answer, _she likes funny or pretty little things._

Though sometimes, Beomgyu will say things like, _oh, she’s just like her son then_ , and Yeonjun will only be able to smile, because his answers would sound like admissions. He keeps those in his head, tucks _she’s kind of like you actually, she likes meaningful gifts_ somewhere else for now. He wonders how bad it would be to admit just how much he pays attention. He wonders how much Beomgyu can read between the lines, if he can tell what he means by the squeeze of his hand, or by the look in his eyes. 

They end the day at the park near their houses. 

The moment they reach the playground, Soobin and Beomgyu both start running towards the direction of the swingset, pushing each other without remorse. Yeonjun laughs when Soobin ends up on the ground and Beomgyu’s cackling as he takes the right swing. It’s unbelievable how the two of them are at their most childish state when they’re with each other. 

Soobin whines, “Why do you always get the better swing?” 

Beomgyu sticks his tongue out, “You don’t even utilize the good swing properly. You don’t go high enough on it, loser.” 

“What’s so wrong about the swing on the left?” Yeonjun asks. 

“It’s creaky as hell, and it’s Soobin’s swing. He sat there first and he’s been trying to steal my swing for the past ten years now,” Beomgyu complains, “And he doesn’t even know how to swing properly, he needs someone to push him.” 

“You don’t know how to play with a swing, Soobin?” 

Soobin rolls his eyes, finally sitting on his swing, “Just push me, hyung.” 

Yeonjun feels a little bit like he’s babysitting two children, which is kind of sad if you think about it, because they’re his best friends and one of them is his boyfriend. “Alright, alright. I’ll push you.” 

Yeonjun starts pushing him and Soobin starts cheering as he begins to move back and forth. He looks at where Beomgyu is starting to get more momentum, going higher and higher with each swing. 

Just a little more and he’ll be out of his seat and in the air, flying. 

“Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu laughs, his hair a complete mess, “Hyung, look!” 

Yeonjun has been looking, but he makes it a point to say, “Yes, I’m looking!” 

When Beomgyu laughs, he shines bright enough that he could probably ask the moon to rest for the night. 

Beomgyu signals to him that he should push Soobin higher too and so he does, taking sweet glee when Soobin starts yelling, “This is too high! Hyung! Hyung! Stop! Help me get down!” 

It’s a little mean, but him and Beomgyu are laughing as they coach Soobin on how to use his useless long legs to create some friction with the ground to help slow down his swing. 

Yeonjun is wiping tears from his eyes by the time Soobin has gotten off the swing and is clutching his heart as he stands wobbly on the ground. 

“You guys are the worst!” Soobin wheezes, “What if I’d died? I need some ice cream to calm my heart.” 

Beomgyu cannot take him seriously, “Oooh, buy me some ice cream too.” 

Soobin glares at him but he’s already pulling out his wallet and walking away, “Hyung, you want some too?” 

“Yeah, buy me whatever you guys usually get,” Yeonjun says, moving to take Soobin’s swing seat. 

Soobin throws him an ok sign with his hands, and when he’s far enough, Yeonjun giggles, turning to Beomgyu, “Soobin is really so funny. How can someone so tall be so afraid of heights?” 

“It’s funnier when you think about how he can’t swim either,” Beomgyu says, “And then think about how clumsy he is usually. It’s like god blessed him with great body proportions but he never learned how to use them.” 

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun shakes his head, “Imagine how powerful he would be if he was good at sports too. It’s just fairer this way.” 

Beomgyu giggles, agreeing with a, “Right?” 

Yeonjun smiles at the sound of his laughter, letting it slowly fade in the air until they’re left with the quiet once more. 

It doesn’t last that long though, for Beomgyu breaks the silence again, “How are you liking Daegu so far?” 

Yeonjun turns to him, “It’s lovely. The food has been great, it’s been nice to just relax and you guys really have just been taking care of me, so I’m really grateful.” 

“I’m glad,” Beomgyu says, “We’ve been talking it up for so long, I was half-worried you’d be disappointed. It’s a bit quieter than Seoul, right?” 

“Yeah, but that’s not bad? I like it, I feel like I can breathe easier here. Must be the trees, but it could be you—” 

“Me?” Beomgyu says, incredulously, and then laughs, “Flirting with me again. You’re lucky I like it.” 

Yeonjun smiles at his reaction, though it has him thinking. “Can I tell you something? I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.” 

Beomgyu’s brows furrow, “Sure, hyung. What is it?” 

“Once, I dated someone who I really liked, way before I met you,” Yeonjun starts carefully, watching the expression on Beomgyu’s face, watches the blink of his eyes as he digests Yeonjun’s words, “I was so happy they said yes when I asked them out, and when we began dating, I’d flirt with them like this, buy them gifts, do stuff for them, and I really thought it was going well, until one day they just randomly broke up with me.” 

“Out of the blue? Just like that?” Beomgyu asks with a frown. 

Yeonjun nods, “Yeah, there might have been warning signs, but you know me, sometimes, I could be so blind. But I asked them why and you know what they said? They just said it was too much.” 

“What was too much?” 

“Just the way I was being in the relationship. I was clingy and gave too much, too fast, too soon.” Yeonjun says, softly, “Do you think that?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head vehemently, “Not at all. It’s been...two years for me, hyung. Even though it’s been what three months—” 

“Four next week,” Yeonjun corrects. 

“Four months,” Beomgyu smiles, “of this? I think I’m the same anyway. I’m clingy and I give too much too fast too soon too. I like how you are.” 

“I know,” Yeonjun grins and is delighted when Beomgyu rolls his eyes at his confident answer, “But it’s nice to hear too. I mean, I only wanted to bring this up, because I’m really super thankful that you receive my affection really well. Just thank you for not thinking it’s too much.” 

Beomgyu pouts, “It’s nothing to be thankful for. Is this not basic things you should do as a boyfriend?” 

“You’d be surprised at how little regard people have sometimes for the people they date,” Yeonjun knows this from experience. He never wants to be one of those people, and so he does the brave thing and finally asks Beomgyu what has been running through his mind all day, “I wanted to ask you about today actually.” 

“What about it?” 

“I feel like I said something that hurt you today, but you ended up just brushing it off like it didn’t happen,” Yeonjun frowns, “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it just yet. But when you’re ready, I’d really like it if you discuss it with me. If I did something wrong, I want to know what it is, so I don’t do it again. I don’t want you to keep it inside, and it festers to the point where you end up resenting me.” 

Beomgyu inhales at his words, clutches the chains holding the swings up tighter, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“It is to me,” Yeonjun immediately says, “It’s when you get quiet like this and think your feelings are smaller than mine that I get worried the most.” 

Beomgyu exhales, “It really is stupid. I wasn’t mad, I just didn’t like how you were asking for more.” 

“The love letters?” 

“No, more time in the past. I think of you and I and the events that happened to get us together, like dominoes, one falling right after the other. You change one thing about it and I sincerely believe we’d be with other people right now. This,” Beomgyu gestures to them both, “Is precious. This you and this me and this us could have only happened one way in this universe. And I wouldn’t dare curse our timing or wish for one thing to change about it.” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “I wouldn’t even tempt a god.” 

Yeonjun is speechless, because that is the last thing he’d thought Beomgyu would say. His first reaction is vehement disagreement, to rehash his own belief of a fated universe, just as he’d told Soobin the other day. 

But it seems like a disservice to argue for that right now, when all Beomgyu is really saying is how much he values how they got together their relationship. It’s something he’ll have to tell him at another time.

“I see,” Yeonjun says, standing up and walking over to stand in front of Beomgyu. It didn’t feel right to be so far away from him, when they’re having a conversation about their relationship. “I’m sorry for how I worded it earlier today then. I just meant that I wanted more time with you, which you should know by now, I always do.”

Yeonjun takes a deep breath, “You’re always telling me how I’m kind and good, but I feel so selfish and greedy when it comes to you—” 

Beomgyu looks up at him, and Yeonjun cups his cheeks, wondering if this is how it’d feel to have the moon in your hands. Earnestly, he says, “I want everything you could give me and more. I want your time and your words and your attention. And I want it, because—”

Yeonjun falters, feeling the fever pitch of his words stop without cause, “Beomgyu, you, uh, because I—”

Why can’t he just spit it out? 

Beomgyu’s eyes flutter like he’s processing what Yeonjun is trying to say before nodding in understanding when Yeonjun can’t say anything more. 

Why can’t he just say it? 

“It’s okay,” Beomgyu murmurs, reaching up to cup Yeonjun’s cheeks, “I know, hyung. I know—” 

Yeonjun leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you,” he says, though it sounds like an apology, “Please just wait a little bit more. I just need the tiniest bit of time—” 

They suddenly hear Soobin call for them, joyfully skipping back to the swings with his plastic bag of ice cream and the sight is so cute and comical, whatever quiet and tender atmosphere they’ve built dissipates in an instant. “Guys! They have this new flavor of Jaws Bar ice cream—” 

_No worries_ , Yeonjun thinks as Beomgyu rises from his seat and peeks curiously at what Soobin has bought them. What remains to be said; Beomgyu shouldn’t worry about it. 

And this brings him back to his conversation with Soobin earlier — what he should, shouldn’t, and have done. 

What should Yeonjun do for his boy who can’t even bite through his ice cream without cringing? Who Yeonjun is realizing is much more careful with their relationship than he needs to be? 

It’s Yeonjun who should try harder, be more careful, and do better. It’s Yeonjun who shouldn’t be making him wait this long to hear the _i love u_ that he deserves. 

Yeonjun should have learned by now how to put a name to this feeling in his chest. 

He needs to stop making Beomgyu wait.   
  



	2. sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeonjun knows that when he says, I’m going to stop making Beomgyu wait for me, he can’t just stop there. He still needs to put in the work to make that come true. 
> 
> The problem is he just doesn’t know where to begin. He was going to focus on what Soobin had said, to recognize love because you’ve been loved before, but when he thinks about it, he’s loved by multiple people, but none of them love him the same way. 
> 
> Love wears multiple faces: his father loves him like a father, his mother loves him like a mother, but only Beomgyu loves him like a lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting early because i wanted to get it out of the way! a belated merry christmas and an early happy new year!

Yeonjun understands that there’s a clear difference between saying he’s going to do something and actually doing it. The former only needs intention while the latter requires commitment.

It’s a distinction he learned when he began to pursue dancing seriously.

When he told his parents, they sat him down and gave him warning upon warning, _are you sure you want to do this? you know it’s not going to be easy, right? what kind of jobs are even there for dancing? it’ll be long hours—_

Yeonjun was still so young then. What he remembers most about it was the hurt; hurt because his parents didn’t accept what he wanted to do and hurt that he tried to nurse until his mother sat with him and said, _we just don’t want you to have regrets_.

Yeonjun had only said, _I’ll regret it more if I don’t do it_.

His mother looked at him then, searching and searching until she sighed, _if you can show to us that you have a plan, that you’re committed to this, then fine, we’ll let you._

And so, Yeonjun put in the work. He attended dance lessons, when everybody else enjoyed their summer breaks. He practiced even when everybody else had already gone home. He put down his pride, so that he could see where he was lacking and improve. He had even done his research, talking to his instructor of possible career options, and figured out what he wanted to do with dancing. All this, while maintaining his grades in school.

Before he knew it, his parents had given their blessing, and he’d been accepted to a university to study what makes him eat, live, and breathe: dance.

So Yeonjun knows that when he says, _I’m going to stop making Beomgyu wait for me_ , he can’t just stop there. He still needs to put in the work to make that come true.

The problem is he just doesn’t know where to begin. He was going to focus on what Soobin had said, _to recognize love because you’ve been loved before_ , but when he thinks about it, he’s loved by multiple people, but none of them love him the same way.

Love wears multiple faces: his father loves him like a father, his mother loves him like a mother, but only Beomgyu loves him like a lover.

It bothers him that it might come down to asking Beomgyu, but he tries not to let it show. He doesn’t want to think about it in the day, anyway. He prefers to be present in the moment, even if these moments are just simple and silly like this one:

“How come we planned so many physical activities for Yeonjun-hyung? Couldn’t we have spent two weeks chilling with him in my house? Couldn’t we do what we always do in Seoul? Nothing?” Soobin complains, as Yeonjun puts sunscreen on his face.

“Stay still,” Yeonjun says, sternly, trying to make sure he spreads it without leaving a whitecast on Soobin’s face, “You’re gonna look all red like a tomato if you keep moving.”

Beomgyu is looking at the driver’s mirror, trying to make sure his face is all covered in sunscreen too. “Worry not, comrades, I got us all some straw hats to help with the sun. Also, I’ve done this before, and it’s really not that bad. The strawberries will be worth it. Just think about how yummy they’ll be when we eat it later.”

“But why do we have to pick it ourselves?” Soobin whines, though to Yeonjun, he says, “Hyung, don’t forget about my neck.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “Why can’t you do it yourself? Am I your mother? Remember when we first met, when we were deciding if we’re good to be roommates, and you presented yourself as a very responsible, self-sufficient adult?”

Beomgyu laughs, reaching over to pat Yeonjun on the arm to get his attention, “Hyung, did you know? He texted me after meeting you for the first time and said, _Ha! Beomie, I think I successfully fooled him._ ”

“Woooooooooow,” Yeonjun says, unimpressed.

“We both lied,” Soobin turning over in his seat, so that Yeonjun could start applying sunscreen on his neck, “You promised you would be a cool roommate but all you do is watch bad romcoms on Netflix and eat instant ramen.”

Yeonjun slaps his neck in retaliation and Soobin yelps, “Hey, be gentle. Would you do that to Beomgyu?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, “Unfortunate to report, but dating him does not save me from his violence.”

Yeonjun reaches over to grab him in an attempt to put him in a headlock, but all Beomgyu does is open the car door and step out.

“He’s too fast,” Soobin laughs, “Do you think I can get away with making Beomgyu do all the work and I cheat and sit here the whole time in the nice air conditioned car?”

“Come on,” Yeonjun says, “Don’t you think it’d be a nice memory picking strawberries together?”

Soobin looks at him, a brow raised in challenge, “I don't know what your definition of nice memory is, but mine doesn’t include sweating in the fields and doing hard labor together. This is toxic masculinity, hyung.”

“Shut up, Soobin,” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “Taking one Gender Studies class doesn’t make you an expert. Also, how bad could it be? It’s not going to be worse than that one time you joined me at the gym.”

Soobin says, “If you turn around, I can help you put sunscreen on your neck. Also, don’t remind me. I thought I was going to pass out that day. I’m still worried I will end up passing out someday, considering you managed to manipulate me into taking Yoga with you for the next year.”

Yeonjun turns around and lets Soobin apply the sunscreen on his neck, “Stop worrying. It’s going to be fun. Your major is too different from mine, so it’s nice that we finally get to take a class together.”

“You’re so sentimental now that you’re getting old and graduating,” Soobin laughs, “Please save it for graduation day, hag.”

“Shut up, I’ll be emotional all I want,” Yeonjun closes his eyes, “It’s technically my last year being a fake adult. Next year, I have to be a real one.”

Soobin boos in sympathy, “Good luck, if you need anything, you know we’re here for you.”

Yeonjun smiles, turning around to sling his arm around his shoulders, “I know.”

They finally step out of the car, where Beomgyu’s been waiting. He’s wearing a red shirt underneath his cute overalls and a straw hat sits atop his messy curls.

He looks so gay it makes Yeonjun’s heart pound.

The moment he sees them though, he shoos them back to the car, “Get your hats, I left them at the back of the car.”

Soobin moves faster than him, and so Yeonjun lets him get it for the both of them. Instead, he chooses to sidle up to Beomgyu, “Hey, little farmer boy, what’s going on?”

“Ugh,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “You sound like my hyung. This morning he saw me and he was like, _where are you going? Are you selling vegetables at the Farmer’s Market?_ ”

Yeonjun laughs, imagining how annoyed Beomgyu must have been this morning before he left to pick them up. He adjusts Beomgyu’s straw hat, just because he can, “Cutest farmer boy I ever saw. I’d haggle prices with you just so I had an excuse to talk to you more.”

“Oooh, I’m swooning,” Beomgyu giggles.

Soobin comes back with their straw hats, handing Yeonjun his. Yeonjun puts it on and says, “Okay, should we take a commemorative photo now or should we do it later, with the strawberries we’ve picked?”

“Let’s do it now,” Soobin says, “I don’t think I’m gonna look good later.”

Beomgyu laughs, “Okay, for Soobin, let’s just take it now, and then I’ll take secret photos of him later.”

Yeonjun pulls out his phone and opens his camera, he raises his arm to get all of them in the shot together, “Alright, everyone pose like you’re really happy to be here.”

“I’ll try,” Soobin says, drily, throwing a peace sign and a barely there smile that still manages to show off his dimples. Beomgyu and him throw similar peace signs but look much happier. Yeonjun hits the shutter button a couple times and then pockets his phone.

“Are we ready?”

“Yeah!” Beomgyu and Soobin cheer.

They go in and each pay an entrance fee, after which the attendant hands them each a basket and directs them to the farm's house rules for strawberry picking.

Yeonjun quickly scans it, frowns when he sees you can't eat the strawberries until after you weigh and pay for them at the end. He thought he was gonna be able to snack on them this whole time.

He feels someone tug at his hand, and when he turns, he sees Beomgyu smiling at him, "Let's go?"

Yeonjun nods and lets himself be pulled into the field.

Beomgyu ends up leading him and Soobin to a large field, multiple rows of strawberries resting in their soil beds lined up neatly across it. Beomgyu points to a row of strawberry plants that nobody was picking from, “Let’s start there, so we’re not competing against different people.”

Soobin leads the way this time, and the three of them look curiously on the strawberry shrubs they pass by as they make their way to their chosen row.

Beomgyu is the only one who’s been here before, and so, he’s the one who shows them the proper way to pick a strawberry. The three of them huddle around a bush; Beomgyu carefully grasps a strawberry in his hand, “Okay, do you see how this is attached to the stem still?”

Yeonjun and Soobin both nod.

“What you have to do is hold onto the stem with one hand and the strawberry with your other,” Beomgyu says, demonstrating as he goes, “And what you want to do is lightly pull and twist the stem until the strawberry pulls apart from it.”

“Ta-da!” Beomgyu shows them the pulled strawberry, bright red in his hand, before putting it in his basket. “Now, it’s your turn.”

Yeonjun does his best following Beomgyu’s instructions and he finds that it’s not that difficult to do. It just takes time, because he has to be careful.

He gets used to it after a while, and he finds that he gets lost picking strawberries. There’s happiness that lives in tiny moments like this, Yeonjun thinks.

How could there not be? The earth is a luscious evergreen. The sun bathes everything in light. The bees are busy making honey. Meanwhile, he is picking strawberries so ripe and red—one might as well call them the rubies of the earth. And also, he is plucking them gently with someone who loves him.

It is not even lunch time yet, and already, he can count at least five things he is so happy about. 

He hums as he carefully places each strawberry in his basket. His basket is getting heavier and wonders if maybe he should stop soon. There’s only so much they can eat; in addition, he has to think about how Beomgyu and Soobin are picking them for their families too. Maybe he should start counting how many he has.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” A voice calls out to him. He turns and Beomgyu is walking towards him, trying to peek into his basket.

Yeonjun shows it to him, “Do you think this is too much already?”

“We can always give it to my neighbors, if it becomes too much,” Beomgyu says, “I was gonna make dessert with half of mine anyway. We could also make strawberry milk. Lots of things to do.”

“Dessert? What kind of sweet things are you planning, baby?” Yeonjun teases. Suddenly, he remembers Beomgyu’s words at the grocery the other day, “Wait, is this what you were talking about before? The one you were practicing?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen and then he huffs, turning away, “No, it’s not.”

“It so is,” Yeonjun pulls him back by his hands, “Can you wear this outfit when you bake for me?”

“Why?” Beomgyu asks, looking down at the overalls he’s wearing.

Yeonjun bites his lip, trying to tamp down his smile, already picturing Beomgyu’s reaction, “Because you look so cute in this. Really, it’s so unfair of you to wear this out in public when I can’t kiss you properly.”

Beomgyu doesn’t get shy as expected though, his ears don’t even turn red the way Yeonjun wanted them to. Instead, Beomgyu looks at him consideringly, flutters his eyelashes as he suggests, “Do you think we can get away with making out in my car?”

_Tempting_ , Yeonjun thinks as his gaze lands on Beomgyu’s pink mouth.

It’s very tempting to say yes, but Yeonjun knows they’ll never hear the end of it from Soobin if they ditch him, especially after forcing him to do this with them. So Yeonjun pushes the thought away, pinching Beomgyu’s nose, “We can’t. This is a bonding experience between three friends, not a date.”

Beomgyu sighs, “I don’t even know where Soobin is now. A kid approached him earlier and you know how he is, he loves small cute things with big eyes. I think his heart has been kidnapped, hyung.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Kids love him back, so I think he’s happy to have his heart stolen like that.”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, crouching down to pick a strawberry that’s resting on a stem closer to the ground, “There’s no crime in that case.”

Yeonjun crouches down too and joins him, immediately spotting a couple strawberries to pick, “That’s a funny way to talk about the heart.”

“What? Crime and thievery?” Beomgyu laughs.

“Yes. But also, do you ever think about how many metaphors there are about love?” Yeonjun asks.

“Hmm,” Beomgyu hums, “I guess now that you’ve mentioned it, there are a lot. Having your heart stolen, falling in love, and so on and so forth.”

“Right,” Yeonjun says, “And I don’t know, isn’t it weird to you that all sound kind of negative? Having something stolen from you isn’t something to celebrate, and falling, unless you’re a bird, is always followed by a crash. It makes love sound like a terrible accident, like something bad that happens to you.”

“And it isn’t, right?”

Yeonjun blinks, realizing what he just said to the person who loves him, and immediately turns to Beomgyu to take back his words. But when he turns, Beomgyu is simply looking at him with curiosity, though he laughs when he sees the expression on Yeonjun’s face, “It’s okay. I’m interested to hear what you think.”

But Yeonjun frowns, “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that—”

“Whyyyy,” Beomgyu whines playfully, tugging on Yeonjun’s hand, “I’m not gonna get hurt. You don’t have to be so careful with me.”

“It’s just,” Yeonjun sighs, rubbing his chest with his free hand, “I hate to think about it that way. That it’s one of the strongest feelings in the world and it’s like what, a wave that overcomes you? A thief in the night?”

“And how would you like it to be?”

Yeonjun purses his mouth in thought. He thinks of his current dilemma, of his inability to understand the full depth of his own feelings, of being so overwhelmed by the need to do right by Beomgyu, of feeling like there’s something lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe or speak. He thinks of that and says, “I don’t know how I’d like it to be. I just wish there was a manual on this that says this is how it is and how it should be. Something to make it straightforward, you know?”

Beomgyu snorts and then covers his mouth immediately. Yeonjun is incensed, “Are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not,” Beomgyu swears, but he’s still covering his mouth and his eyes are curved like crescent moons, “It’s just...that’s such a you thing to say.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Beomgyu gestures vaguely, “Like you, you’re the type of person that likes things that work and can be understood in logical ways, which is very interesting to me, because you’re a dancer.”

Yeonjun frowns, “You know I took that personality test once, and it said I’m a feeler—”

“You are,” Beomgyu agrees, “But just because you are, doesn’t mean you don’t prefer things that function in a straightforward way. Can I give you an example?”

“Go ahead.”

“Okay, for example, you believe that hard work never lies, right? That the amount of effort you put in directly corresponds to the success you receive.”

Yeonjun agrees, “Yes, if you put in the effort, then you can slowly but surely make the reality you want come true.”

“I don’t think that’s wrong,” Beomgyu says, “But I don’t think that’s true all the time either. I’ve seen other dancers, other people who work hard, maybe just as hard as you, and they don’t dance like you. Not to say that your hard work doesn’t matter, because it totally does, but there’s something about the way you dance, that’s just you. Do you know what I mean?”

“Like in the way that dance is an expression of self?”

Beomgyu hums, “Kind of? But also, there’s a beautiful quality to it that I can only attribute as the essence of you. It’s there even when you’re just dancing mindlessly in the kitchen. Am I making sense or am I giving out free compliments?”

“I like free compliments,” Yeonjun quietly interjects.

“I know you do,” Beomgyu smiles sweetly. “But my point is, there’s just some things that aren’t built to be understood in a straightforward way. Even the ones that you think are straightforward aren’t. Feelings are one of those things. You just have to...take them as they are. You can’t mold them as you please. So, stop thinking so hard about it.”

Yeonjun pouts, “I’m not trying to mold them into anything. I’m just complaining...about how difficult it is to understand. It’s fine if it’s not straightforward, but I don’t even know where to begin. Soobin was so unhelpful and told me to just ask you.”

“And? Why didn’t you ask me?”

“ _Because_ ,” Yeonjun runs his hand through his hair, “It’s weird and inappropriate—”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Beomgyu says, like Yeonjun could ever forget, “Why would it be weird? This is our relationship, I think I’m actually the most appropriate person to talk to about this. So, ask away.”

Yeonjun stares at him and at the openness of his face. _Trust me_ , Beomgyu’s eyes say.

And for all the time Yeonjun has spent avoiding this topic with Beomgyu, Yeonjun ends up giving in easily, “Okay, what would you do then? If you were me and you were trying to figure out the depth of your feelings, what would you do?”

Beomgyu hums, “I’d listen to my heart and to my body. I’d think long and hard about what I feel and what I’m doing. I think love can be obvious, because it’s something that can’t be contained. But if you don’t listen to your heart, then you might miss it.” Beomgyu purses his mouth, “I’d definitely take my time doing it, though. It’s a process that can take some time to figure out, and it’s definitely not something to rush.”

“I’m not rushing,” Yeonjun denies, but Beomgyu immediately disagrees.

“Yes, you are!” Beomgyu shuffles closer, cupping Yeonjun’s cheeks and cooing, “Why is my Yeonjunnie-hyung so frustrated about it, huh? Didn’t I say I’d wait for you? Who is pressuring you?”

“Nobody is pressuring me. I just—” Yeonjun sighs, “I don’t like the idea of you waiting for me as I try to catch up to you. I want to be where you already are.”

“You’re literally right beside me,” Beomgyu says. “You’re not catching up—”

“You know what I mean,” Yeonjun says, “I don’t know. You’re so good to me, and I just want to give back even half of it. You’re always taking care of me and you’re mindful of my feelings all the time, when it should be me who’s taking care of you—”

Beomgyu tilts his head to the side, “Why can’t I take care of you? Why does it have to be always you taking care of me? You’re my boyfriend, not my caretaker. I want to be good to you all the time, because I want to and because you _are_ good to me. You don’t have to give and give without ever getting to receive. That’s not how our relationship works.”

“Are you sure you’ve never dated anyone?” Yeonjun asks.

Beomgyu laughs, throwing his head back, “Why? Did I sound super wise and experienced to you just now? That’s the product of watching too many romance movies where one person gets treated like shit. It’s also why I had so many romantic ideals.”

“Ideals?” Yeonjun asks, “How am I faring against that?”

Beomgyu smiles, “I don’t have them anymore. Whatever you do is my ideal.”

Yeonjun feels warm all over and he knows it’s not the sun to blame.

Beomgyu doesn’t even wait to consider the effect of his words, doesn’t even let Yeonjun have a full inhale, exhale, to calm his heart. “Also, listen, you can’t force your feelings if they’re not there—”

“What if...they’re there?” Yeonjun asks, in a small voice, and Beomgyu nods at him to continue, “What if it’s like you said and I miss it, because I couldn’t see?”

“It’s the same thing,” Beomgyu says, “I keep telling you, you can’t force it. One day, it’ll just click and you’ll understand. It’ll come when it comes.”

Beomgyu gestures to the plants around them, “They’re like these strawberry plants. You might plant them in the fall, and you look away, let time pass, and they’ll bloom and bear fruit in the summer, just the way it’s naturally meant to be. Hyung, think about it. If you pick a strawberry too early, it’s sour, right? It’s not ready. That’s how I think about it, at least.”

“You’ll tell me you love me, when you’re ready,” Beomgyu gently picks a strawberry from its stem, “And when you’re ready, that I love you will sound just as sweet as these strawberries—”

Beomgyu leans closer and brings the strawberry up close to Yeonjun’s mouth, “Say ahhh—”

“We’re not allowed to eat these without paying for it,” Yeonjun says, blocking the strawberry with his hand, “I know because I read the rules unlike you and Soobin.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Beomgyu pouts, “Come on, you’ve been eyeing them this whole time. I know you’re hungry.”

Yeonjun is hungry, that is true. He looks around and sees that there’s not too many people nearby, and most of them are too busy talking to each other to be paying attention to other people. Still, if they look over, they’ll get caught easily. If only there was a way to hide—

Yeonjun has an idea.

On one side, they’re hidden by the strawberry bushes, but they’re completely exposed on the other— so Yeonjun takes off his hat and covers their exposed faces. Beomgyu’s eyes widen as Yeonjun grabs his hand, the one holding the strawberry, and brings it close enough for him to bite.

And bite he does—the strawberry tastes ripe and sweet in his mouth and it’s so fresh that it’s juices drip down the side of his mouth and down Beomgyu’s hand.

Beomgyu watches it all without blinking, “You…”

Yeonjun wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and laughs, delighted at Beomgyu’s reaction. “You said I should eat it.”

“You,” Beomgyu repeats again, “You are so unfair. First, you call me cute and then reject my offer to make out in my car. Then, I try to feed you out of the goodness of my heart and you act like this—”

“Like what?” Yeonjun challenges.

“You know how good you look, and you know what you do to me—” Beomgyu cuts himself off suddenly, the faux anger on his face turning to a petrified expression.

“Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asks, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t move,” Beomgyu warns, “Be quiet—”

“What, why—”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Beomgyu whispers harshly, “There’s a fucking bee on your shoulder.”

Yeonjun slowly turns his head and there it is, a small little bee vibing on his shoulder. It looks kind of cute actually.

“Kill it.”

“No! It’s good for the environment.”

“Which is more important? The environment or your boyfriend—”

Soobin finds them like this:

Somehow the bee has made its way on top of Yeonjun’s head and Beomgyu stands ready to smack the little bee off his head.

It’s really Soobin’s mistake for leaving them alone for a cute kid. So what if their cute little hands made the tiny strawberries look big? Was the serotonin boost worth it?

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’m breaking up with him, Soobin. He says the environment is more important than me—” Beomgyu is talking at a hundred miles per minute but is moving so slowly as to not startle the little bee and have it fly towards him.

“Oh my god,” Yeonjun says, rolling his eyes, “The bee is so cute. I would shoo it away, but Beomgyu won’t even let me. Says it needs to die.”

“What if it flies to me? Do you ever think?” Beomgyu complains.

Soobin is so unimpressed with both of them that he simply smacks the back of Yeonjun’s head, causing the bee to fly away and for Beomgyu to shriek and cower against the bushes.

“Hey!” Yeonjun yells at him, “Why would you hit me like that?”

Soobin shrugs, “It was the funniest option.” And then to Beomgyu, he says, “Come on, Beomie. The little baby bee is gone. I’m tired and hungry.”

Beomgyu puts his hand on his heart, “That was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I can’t believe you would say it was funny. I’m telling Taehyun about this—”

“Do it,” Soobin raises a brow, “Give him something to laugh about.”

Yeonjun finally stands up too, stretching his legs as he does. “I’m hungry too. Let’s go, guys. The faster we leave the farther away we’ll be from the bees.”

And for all his angry comments and threats that he’ll break up with him, Beomgyu perks up immediately at the suggestion and goes to his side. He kind of looks cute like the tiny bee. Yeonjun wishes he was just small enough to place him on his shoulder.

He thinks about how nice this morning has gone and thinks about how maybe he’s the bee, drowning in the honey of his own making.

It was nice, even with the difficult conversation he and Beomgyu had just moments ago. The conversation was cut short, but Beomgyu had said enough to get him thinking.

Previously, Soobin had said that he can recognize love because he’s been loved before.

And now, Beomgyu said that it’s all a matter of listening to yourself and how that takes time.

One tells him to look outside and the other tells him to look inside. Yeonjun doesn’t know which one to follow, which one is right or if they both are; what he does know is that Beomgyu is right.

This will take some time.

Yeonjun knows himself though. Even if he can accept the fact that it may just be a matter of time, he won’t be able to stop thinking about it, asking questions, or doing what it takes to understand.

It concerns Beomgyu, after all; how can anyone expect Yeonjun to sit still?

Sometimes, Yeonjun thinks he was given two hands so that he can throttle Soobin and Beomgyu at the same time.

“What do you mean you want me to be the designated driver?” Yeonjun asks, “We’re going to go wine tasting as part of _my_ vacation trip, and you two want _me_ to stay completely sober?”

Beomgyu tries to placate him, “We just wanted to put it, uh, out there, you know?”

Soobin adds on, “Plus, you’re, you know, strong. You can drink a lot without getting drunk, right?”

“Literally, _no_ ,” Yeonjun is incensed, it doesn’t even make sense for him to go with them to the wine tasting, if he’s not going to taste wine. Where is the logic? “Also, my tolerance is not _that_ good. I’m not driving someone else’s car after drinking alcohol. Are we clowns? Are we clowning around—”

“Okay!” Beomgyu waves his hand, “No need to be raging this early in the morning. Not a big deal! We’ll take the metro and walk, and then Soobin’s mom can pick us up on her way home from work—”

Soobin immediately rejects the idea, “No. Mom will get on my ass if she found out all we did was drink the day away.”

“She won’t find out,” Beomgyu assures, “You know why? Because we won’t be drinking the day away.”

Soobin doesn’t seem convinced, and neither is Yeonjun.

Yeonjun knows from experience that day drinking is an all-day activity.

It always starts with the casual shrug of the shoulders, thinking you'll be fine. It’s just going to be one drink. But then, you start drinking and it goes down your throat way too smoothly, heat spreading from your chest all the way to your fingertips, and you just feel _good_ —good enough that you order another drink, and another and another.

Before you know it, you’re drunk at two in the afternoon. Before you know it, the sun is going down and you’ve lost your whole day.

He tells them this, but Beomgyu points out, “It’s wine, hyung. That kind of out of control behavior happens because when you day drink, you do it with Mark-hyung and Yeri-noona who both pour tequila in your orange juice for brunch. We’re going to be classy.”

Yeonjun still isn’t convinced. Alcohol is Alcohol, but it’s not his mother who’s going to pick them up. “I’ll leave it up to Soobin.”

Soobin closes his eyes, clearly doing mental calculations on the likelihood of his mother giving him the lecture of the century by the end of the day. “I mean, why can’t we just take the metro back home?”

Beomgyu puts his hand on Soobin’s arm and sweetly says, “Because I’m gonna be sleepy after and I don’t want to walk home.”

Soobin frowns, “Why can’t we ask Hyunwoo-hyung to pick us up instead?”

Beomgyu pointedly glances at Yeonjun and Soobin raises his hand, “Okay, fair.”

Yeonjun sighs, “Okay, I mean, I want to do this, but not badly enough to be spending so much time figuring it out.”

“Gosh,” Soobin rubs his face with his hands, “Okay, maybe it’ll be fine. It’s wine. You’re right, we’re not going to go wild. We’ll set a timer or something, so we have enough time to sober up if we need to before my mom picks us up. It’ll be fine. It’ll work out.”

Famous last words.

It goes pretty much as Yeonjun expects.

They arrive at a cute little restaurant that offers the wine tasting event and get seated at a table. Their eyes go big with wonder when they are given six glasses of wine _each_. They all couldn’t help but stick their nose in their glasses, all trying to see what they can smell.

One of the white wines they put out smells like apples. One of the reds smells like blackberries.

In addition to that, servers place a platter of cheeses, crackers, fruits, and even chocolate on their table.

Beside him, Beomgyu whispers, “I think this is actually the best thing we’ve done so far. Who’s great idea was this again?”

Soobin laughs, “Shut up, it was both of our ideas.”

“This is what happens when you two work together for once, huh?” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu shushes him, “It’s about to start.”

It’s Yeonjun’s first time ever at a wine tasting event and it goes like this:

There’s a sommelier that leads them through it.

They first teach them how to drink it, how you have to swirl your wine glass properly, how you have to look at the hue and intensity of the color of the wine, how to look at the legs (whatever that is), how to smell it a certain way, and how to actually, finally drink it.

It’s a lot of information in such a short period of time, and Yeonjun just tries his best to copy whatever the sommelier is doing.

Beside him, Soobin is scratching his head, “Hyung, what were they saying about the legs?”

“I don’t really know,” Yeonjun says, picking up the white wine that the sommelier just introduced, “Something about it telling you the alcohol content or something?”

On his other side, Beomgyu is already sipping his glass. Yeonjun thinks he has the right idea. The most important part is the taste, after all.

Yeonjun ends up trying his too and looks at Beomgyu in delight, when it tastes good.

“It’s like,” Yeonjun licks his lips, “fruity right, but I’m also getting notes of...more fruit.”

Beomgyu almost chokes on his wine at that, “Stop, were you not paying attention? They said it has hints of oak.”

Soobin raises a brow, “You were actually paying attention?”

“No,” Beomgyu says, shamelessly, “But I overheard the other table say it. Besides, I can actually taste oak.”

Yeonjun side eyes him, “What does oak even taste like? You’ve eaten oak?”

Soobin laughs at that, giving Yeonjun a high-five. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “Just drink your wine.”

And drink they did—getting more giggly with every glass they finish. By the time they make it halfway through the event, they’re in their own world.

Yeonjun watches as Soobin spreads some brie cheese on a piece of cracker and tops it with strawberry jam. “Dude,” Yeonjun says.

Soobin bites it, “What?”

“Is that good?” Yeonjun asks.

“Would I eat it if it’s bad?” Soobin says, “It’s like the cracker version of those breads that have jam and cheese in it. Try it.”

Yeonjun nods, resolving to try it. He follows what Soobin had done, albeit he’s definitely more generous in the amount of cheese and jam he puts on his.

Beomgyu can’t help but comment, “Hyung, there’s more toppings than bread on that one.”

Yeonjun ignores his comment, pushing his creation towards Beomgyu, “Do you want to try it?”

“I’m good,” Beomgyu laughs, pushing it back towards Yeonjun. “I’m pacing myself. I don’t want to get full.”

“You’re gonna get drunk if you don’t eat though,” Yeonjun eats his cracker in one bite. It’s pretty good, he thinks, though he definitely put too much jam. He’ll put less next time.

He also puts grapes on Beomgyu’s plate, and when Beomgyu looks at him questioningly, he says, “Eat.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, pointedly eating one. “Happy?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, grabbing one grape from his plate and feeding it to Beomgyu. “Another one.”

Beomgyu lets himself be fed. Yeonjun smiles, patting his head, “Good boy.”

From his other side, Soobin snorts, “Is he a dog?”

Yeonjun turns to him and shoves a grape in his mouth too, “Be quiet. Drink some more wine, Soobin. You’re not looking red enough.”

That was a lie. Soobin’s cheeks glowed red, and Yeonjun knew he was going to be brighter than a traffic light in the dark by the end of their sixth glass.

Soobin presses his hands to his own cheeks and mutters, “God. I feel warm.”

“I think you need to drink more,” Beomgyu says, raising his wine glass. “I think we should do a quick cheers.”

“I think you’re the worst influence,” Soobin says, while Yeonjun raises his glass in support. Soobin glares at him, “Hyung. You’re the oldest.”

“By a year,” Yeonjun says. They really need to stop bringing that up. Just for that, he’ll be the other devil on Soobin’s shoulder, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Famous last words, part two.

“God,” Soobin says, stumbling out of the restaurant, “Why did we decide to order another bottle to split? Was six not enough?”

Yeonjun almost stumbles out too, if not for the hold Beomgyu had on his waist.

Beomgyu giggles, “I think we should sit on that bench over there, while we wait for Auntie.”

At the mention of his mother, Soobin groans, “I’m gonna get murdered. I can’t even walk straight.”

Yeonjun laughs as he watches Soobin collapse on the bench, “You look like those fresh out-of-the-womb horses.”

Not that him and Beomgyu are any better. The two of them barely make it to the bench without injury. Yeonjun shoves Soobin to the side to make space for them, which has Soobin cursing him.

Beomgyu feels so warm against his side, Yeonjun could make a home out of him. He puts his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder and says, “I thought we were going to set an alarm, so we could sober up before Auntie gets here.”

“We did,” Soobin says, closing his eyes, looking like he’s made peace with his future, “We turned it off and kept drinking.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu rests his head on top of his, “I think we’ll be okay. Let’s just pretend we’re okay. Walk straight, chin up, don’t say a single word.”

“Walk straight,” Soobin mutters, “Yeonjun-hyung doesn’t even know what straight means.”

Yeonjun smacks him, not even choosing to say anything. Not that he could anyway, because Soobin immediately says, “Shut up, that’s her car. Oh my god, stay calm everybody—”

Beomgyu lifts his head up, “You’re the only one panicking.”

Soobin glares at him, “You think my mom won’t say anything to your mom?”

“What’s my mom going to do? I’ll tell her I already prayed and asked God for forgiveness.” Beomgyu says. “You’re on your own, brah.”

Soobin shakes his head. Yeonjun thinks he would have throttled Beomgyu too, if not for the fact that his mom’s car stops in front of them.

Yeonjun and Beomgyu climb in the back, while Soobin takes the passenger seat.

“Hey Auntie!” Beomgyu greets with cheer, “Thanks for picking us up!”

“Yes,” Yeonjun adds on, “Thank you.”

Sooyoung turns in her seat to look at them, “You’re welcome. Besides, I was on our way home.”

She turns her attention to Soobin and frowns, “What’s wrong with you?”

It is so hard not to laugh as Yeonjun watches Soobin try to casually explain the redness of his cheeks. “You know,” Soobin starts, gesturing creatively with his hand, “It’s summer, Omma. It’s hot out there in the world. There’s global warming these days too.”

Sooyoung slowly nods, “Is that so, honey?”

Yeonjun feels something touch his hand, and when he turns, he sees Beomgyu looking at him and biting his lip, also trying hard not to laugh.

‘Stop,’ Yeonjun mouths. ‘I’m gonna laugh if I look at you.’

“Yes, Omma,” Soobin says, even going so far to turn the AC up in the car. “Feeling really hot.”

“Uhuh,” Sooyoung says, starting their drive home, “I didn’t know the heat could also make lips look purple.”

Soobin turns to her, “Huh?”

Sooyoung hums, “Have you looked in the mirror, honey? Your lips are stained purple. Kind of reminds me of something.”

Yeonjun is no mind reader, but he can hear the loudest _oh shit_ emitting from Soobin and polluting the air waves.

Beomgyu doesn’t even hide his snickers, and Sooyoung clearly hears it, for her next words are directed at him, “Choi Beomgyu, did I raise a liar?”

Beomgyu straightens up, clearing his throat, “No, Auntie. Soobin is the most honest person I know.”

Soobin groans, “Omma, it’s not what you think—”

“Soobin,” Sooyoung gives him a look, “It’s funny how you think you can fool your mother. Not only did I raise you for twenty years, I am also a doctor. You think I can’t tell when you’ve been drinking?”

“Ommaaaaaa,” Sooobin whines, “It was wine tasting. It was educational—”

“Yeonjunnie,” Sooyoung cuts her own son off, “Did you learn anything today?”

“Oh, um,” Yeonjun starts, not really knowing what to say. He figures they might as well be honest, “I learned that uh, Sauvignon Blancs are really good.”

Sooyoung rubs her face, “Thanks for being honest, Yeonjun. I really appreciate it.”

“Auntie,” Beomgyu tries to change the subject. “I think you and my mom should go do it. It’s not that expensive and they give you six different types of wines and lots of snacks—”

“Beomgyu—” Sooyoung sighs, about to say something, but cuts herself off, “Yeah, sure, send me the link. Minha and I can commiserate together about the headaches you and Soobin give to us.”

They all take that as cue to stay quiet; all of them feeling like they’re seven years old again. Sooyoung stays quiet too, and Yeonjun thinks it’ll be a quiet drive all the way back to Soobin’s house.

But after a while, Sooyoung speaks up, “Are you guys hungry? Did you guys eat anything except for whatever snacks they gave?”

Soobin tentatively speaks up, “I kind of want fries, Omma.”

“McDonald’s?” Sooyoung suggests, “Yeonjun, Beomgyu, do you guys want that too?”

“Yes, Auntie,” The two of them answer.

“Alright,” She says, starting their drive towards McDonald's instead.

When she gets there, she parks the car and turns to them. “What do you guys want?”

Soobin turns in his seat to look at Yeonjun, “Chicken nuggets?”

“Fries would be good too, if that’s okay…?” Yeonjun trails off, shyly checking with Sooyoung.

Sooyoung smiles, “Don’t feel burdened. Order to your heart’s content.”

“Thank you,” Yeonjun says, happy. “That’s all I want though.”

Soobin purses his mouth in thought, “So maybe, get the forty piece chicken nugget and two large fries?”

Beomgyu chimes in, “Can I get a happy meal?”

“Hmm?” Sooyoung says, opening her phone to write down their orders, “You want a happy meal on top of the forty piece chicken nugget and two large fries?”

“Auntie,” Beomgyu sighs, “If you thought Soobin ate a lot, wait until you see Yeonjun-hyung eat—”

Yeonjun covers his mouth and hurriedly assures, “I eat a normal amount, Auntie, don’t listen to him.”

“It’s okay even if you do,” Sooyoung says, “Beomgyu, what kind of happy meal do you want? Do you want the burger or the chicken nuggets too?”

“Chicken nuggets,” Beomgyu says.

“Alright, I’ll go get it,” Sooyoung closes the door, and they all watch as she goes inside McDonald’s.

The second she’s out of sight, Soobin breathes a sigh of relief, “Man, that could’ve been so much worse. I feel like all the alcohol in my body evaporated—”

“Is Auntie really that scary?” Yeonjun asks.

“She can be?” Beomgyu says, “I think she definitely held off though, because you were here. Guest privileges.”

“Thank god,” Soobin says. “Also, it’s true. I think Beomgyu’s mom is scarier. Not that she’s ever been mad at me, but Beomgyu—”

“Yeah, Omma is definitely scary,” Beomgyu yawns, twisting his body so he can rest his back against the side door.

Yeonjun can’t help but yawn too, and soon enough, Soobin is yawning too. Yeonjun laughs, “Look at what you’ve started.”

Beomgyu extends his legs and puts them on Yeonjun’s lap, “I told you, once the alcohol wears off, I get sleepy.”

Soobin rests his cheek against the cushioned back of his seat, “He always gets cuddly too. His least feral form.”

“What are you saying,” Beomgyu laughs softly, “I’m never feral. Right, Yeonjun-hyung?’

“Hm,” Yeonjun pretends to think, rubbing Beomgyu’s ankle, “I can think of a few moments.”

“What! Like when? Give me an example,” Beomgyu shakes his leg, and Yeonjun lightly slaps it, “Stop moving, your shoes are dirty.”

“I can give you an example,” Soobin says, “I was kind of drunk, so I can’t remember much of it. But remember when we went to that one party together, the first time with Kai and Taehyun? And you insulted this one guy so bad, Yeonjun-hyung had to step in?”

Beomgyu squints his eyes, “Are you talking about that time before you and Taehyun got together?”

“Babe,” Yeonjun says, “It was that night, before we—”

“Before we?” Beomgyu slowly says, before it dawns on him and a smile spreads on his face. “I remember. That guy was such an asshole though.”

“You could have just ignored him,” Yeonjun says.

“I was going to. He was so slimy, gross, and he was hitting on me so hard,” Beomgyu shudders, “I can still feel the sweat emitting off him.”

Soobin snorts, “Why didn’t you walk away?”

“Because,” Beomgyu says, like it’s obvious. “He was talking shit about Yeonjun-hyung. Was I supposed to stand there and let him be insulted?”

Yeonjun already knows this. He shouldn’t be affected by the reminder of it, but he is. Yeonjun grew up broad and tall, and he’s got more than enough fire in him to be able to stand up for himself. He’s never needed anyone to stand up for him. But the fact that Beomgyu has and will does something to him.

“I thought it was funny,” Soobin reminisces with a smile, “Yeonjun-hyung was so worried you were going to get beaten up.”

“I wasn’t worried at all,” Beomgyu says, closing his eyes, “I could have taken the guy. Taehyun used to do boxing too. I also know Yeonjun-hyung wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

Yeonjun can’t say anything to that.

It’s true.

Sooyoung eventually comes back to the car with their McDonald’s takeout. She hands one bag to him and Beomgyu, and the other to Soobin. They immediately start eating the fries—it’s completely silent in the car, except for the sound of them chomping and bags rustling when they grab a fry.

When they arrive at Soobin’s house, they bring their takeout to Soobin’s room and set everything up on the floor. Beomgyu steps out to briefly grab them some drinks, though when he comes back, he’s brought with him a whole bottle of wine instead.

“Okay, before you say anything,” Beomgyu raises his hand, “I’m going to grab water too.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “How did you sneak that out of the kitchen?”

“Auntie’s in the bathroom taking a shower,” Beomgyu says, “Besides, aren’t you curious to try if the wine you bought tastes good?”

“That’s for Soobin’s family,” Yeonjun says.

Soobin shrugs, “Technically, he’s part of the family too.”

Yeonjun sighs, “I can see that. Are we drinking expensive wine with chicken nuggets?”

“Why not?” Beomgyu says, “Make it a party. Call it a chicken nugget bonanza.”

And that’s how they find themselves drinking for the second time that day. 

“Dude,” Yeonjun says, sipping the wine after having just eaten ten chicken nuggets in a row, “This is not it.”

“I feel like I have to cleanse my palette,” Soobin grimaces. “I refuse to believe it’s the wine. The chicken nuggets just don’t pair well with it.”

“Oh, okay,” Beomgyu says, dismayed. “I’m just gonna save the wine for after then.”

They end up just talking and eating on Soobin’s floor, and when the food is done, they’re taking sips here and there of the wine. At some point though, Yeonjun realizes mid-convo that Soobin hasn’t spoken in a while, and when they look at him, they find him passed out with his phone in his hand.

Beomgyu tsks, “I thought I’d pass out first.”

Yeonjun laughs, “It’s for the best that you didn’t. Once you’re asleep, it’s so hard to wake you up. I think we would have had to carry you all the way home.”

“Or…” Beomgyu trails off, “I could just sleep here.”

“You know you can’t.” Yeonjun says. “Even if you sleep with Soobin, they’ll probably think you’re sleeping with me.”

“We were together in Seoul. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a surprise to them that we’ve slept in the same bed.”

“Still,” Yeonjun stresses, “We’re in Auntie’s house. I don’t want them to think we were misbehaving.”

“But it would be _so_ nice to misbehave,” Beomgyu sighs, absentmindedly picking lint off of Yeonjun’s shirt.

Yeonjun grabs his hand, “Babe, we can’t.”

Beomgyu intertwines their fingers as he moves to sit closer to him. “I’m just saying, it would be nice. We can just think about it.”

Yeonjun swallows at Beomgyu’s words and proximity.

Beomgyu can be a cute, sleepy, cuddly type of drunk. He’s seen that today. But he’s seen this Beomgyu too, this one who’s uninhibited, touchy and flirty as hell—and he’s here tonight, eyeing Yeonjun with such dark eyes.

“What are you thinking about—”

“I’m thinking about you...” Beomgyu says lowly, looking straight at Yeonjun’s mouth. Beomgyu smiles, his eyes flickering up to look him in the eye, “and me…”

Yeonjun breathes, barely remembering to do it with the way Beomgyu keeps inching close. He can’t help the way he’s leaning back, but it doesn’t matter, because Beomgyu just follows, determined to close the distance. “And?”

“I think about that time in my room,” Beomgyu whispers, “When we were kissing on my bed, how we would have kept doing it had Soobin not walked in.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun swallows.

“I think about it every time I go to bed. How tight your grip was on my waist. Calling me baby like you didn’t want me to let you go—”

God. _God_. This boy will be the death of him.

Yeonjun covers his mouth, because if he hears one more bastardly thing out of Beomgyu’s mouth, he is going to lose it.

“You’re so sick for this,” Yeonjun tries his best to sound disappointed, but it’s so hard when he is _so_ into it. “Making a move on me when our best friend is a couple of meters away from us, passed out? Remember the days when you didn’t even want to make out with me when Soobin was in the same apartment? You’ve changed—”

Beomgyu shushes him, while giggling himself, “Oh my god, be quiet. What if he wakes up? What are we going to do then, huh?”

“I guess there’ll be no kissing then,” Yeonjun feels breathless when he sees the pout that shows up on Beomgyu’s face. “You wanna kiss me that bad?”

Beomgyu places his other hand at Yeonjun’s nape to keep him there before raising a brow in challenge, “Stop asking stupid questions. You know I do. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone as bad as I do you.”

God, Yeonjun thinks, feeling a swoop in his stomach at Beomgyu’s words and he can’t even say anything when the pout on Beomgyu’s face transforms to a smirk. Continues to say nothing when Beomgyu says, “I see,” not explaining what he sees and finally leans in now that he’s got Yeonjun in his hold.

Yeonjun has no words.

He is Beomgyu’s to take, and Beomgyu is kissing him like he wants everything Yeonjun would give.

Maybe it’s the wine, but the room feels several degrees warmer as Beomgyu deepens the kiss, tilting his head and parting his mouth, all while climbing onto his lap.

It’s a far, far cry from the way they kissed that very first time. Beomgyu was so shy then, his cheeks were warm cupped by Yeonjun’s hand, and when Yeonjun kissed his neck, he could feel his hummingbird pulse against his mouth.

Yeonjun feels like their positions are reversed now.

It’s not that Yeonjun is shy in any way about kissing, but sometimes, he gets overwhelmed too by the intensity of Beomgyu’s kisses. Like now, where he finds himself breathless as he tries to keep up with his eager mouth, and soon enough, finds himself pushed down to the floor as Beomgyu presses the weight of his body against his.

Yeonjun’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and all he can do is accept the butterflies fluttering in his chest as Beomgyu presses a kiss against his nose. Beomgyu pulls back and looks at the mess he’s made of Yeonjun, “I want to kiss you like this in my bed. Your head on my pillow, your hair like a golden halo. You’re so gorgeous you can’t be real.”

This has to be why they warn you against dating songwriters. They pull you in with their words and you’re left breathlessly hanging onto every word.

Yeonjun shakily touches Beomgyu’s cheek, “I’m real.”

“I know, but it’s like my heart can’t believe it. Like it’s still trying to catch up with the fact that you’re really here and not in Seoul. I used to dream about this—”

“God, Beomgyu,” Yeonjun breathes, “You’re being unfair. We’ve talked about this. You know what it does to me when you talk like this.”

The serious look in Beomgyu’s eyes dissipates as he bursts into giggles, tucking his face into the crook of Yeonjun’s neck. Yeonjun huffs out a laugh too, threading a hand through Beomgyu’s hair, but he’s completely serious.

Beomgyu says, “I can’t help it, I just say what I feel. It’s not my fault that my honesty's too much for your brain to process.”

“No,” Yeonjun says, taking Beomgyu’s hand and placing it against his chest, where his heart is pounding so strongly, “It’s my heart that can’t handle it. How am I supposed to go on when you’re telling me you dream about kissing me, hm?”

“You’re the one with more dating experience than me,” Beomgyu sighs happily, snuggling against him, “How should I know?”

“None of them prepared me for you,” Yeonjun admits and it’s so true.

Beomgyu is an ocean and Yeonjun is only a little boat in his waters, struggling to navigate his way through him.

They fall asleep just like that and wake up to Soobin giving them shit for cuddling in his presence.

Yeonjun can’t even give a shit about it, considering they’re guilty of more than what they’re being accused of.

And like all things involving Beomgyu, it’s worth it.

“You have work?” Yeonjun asks, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I thought you asked not to be scheduled this whole time?”

Soobin is pulling on his uniform with a sigh, “My coworker had an emergency and I owed her. You’ll just have to hang out with Beomgyu alone today. Or at least until dinner—”

Soobin turns to him and rolls his eyes, “Can you at least act a little sad about it?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even realize he’s smiling widely until Soobin had pointed it out.

“Sad? About getting alone time with my boyfriend?” Yeonjun teases, wrapping an arm around Soobin’s shoulders, “Soobin, I’ll miss you, but not that much.” 

“I’ll forgive you only because I understand,” Soobin snorts, shrugging off Yeonjun's arm, “Have fun today then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

It’s a funny comment.

Don’t get him wrong, Soobin is a mature and responsible individual, and to add to that, he’s an introvert who’d rather play games on his computer than go to a party. But there’s a clear reason as to why Soobin is best friends with Beomgyu, and that clear reason informs Yeonjun’s knowledge of the range of things Soobin _would_ do.

Yeonjun gives Soobin a pass for that comment, though, and simply wishes him a good day at work.

As for what Yeonjun will do with himself, he’ll walk over to Beomgyu’s house to hang out over there. Beomgyu had told him to come over whenever he’s ready, which takes him much longer than he’d thought.

The possibility of seeing any member of Beomgyu’s family has him worried about his outfit. Should he wear jeans instead of shorts? Should he go for some color or keep it all neutral? In the end, he shuts off his brain and just picks something simple. He’s definitely overthinking it, but it’s hard when the thought of interacting with them still makes him nervous.

Their dinner definitely went well, but it’s all still new to Yeonjun. He’ll be more comfortable someday, when they’re close enough to consider him family—

Yeonjun slaps his cheeks. He’s getting ahead of himself. 

Anyway, when he arrives at Beomgyu’s house, he’s greeted by Beomgyu wearing a red checkered apron again.

“Wow,” Yeonjun says, gaze drifting down all the way to Beomgyu’s cute bear house slippers. “I sure would like to come home to this everyday.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu reaches for a hug and a kiss, both of which Yeonjun is more than happy to give. When they pull away, Beomgyu says, “Come on in. Don’t want the neighbors asking who the handsome man I was canoodling with for everyone to see.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Just tell them it’s your boyfriend.”

“No, thanks. Everyone will ask me to introduce you to them, and I’m not sharing you.” Beomgyu huffs, leading him to the kitchen by the hand.

“Feisty,” Yeonjun teases.

“Only because Omma keeps bragging about it to her friends,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “Anyway, I’m going to ask you to be the nicest version of yourself today, okay? Appa was already being a doubter and I just don’t know if I can take one more critic—”

“What’s that?” Hyunbin walks into the kitchen with his briefcase, “Is my son badmouthing his loving father?”

“I’m telling the truth, Appa,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “You literally asked me what dessert you should bring home just in case.”

Hyunbin turns to Yeonjun and winks, “Yeonjun, if there’s one thing you need to know about my son, it’s that I have never ever seen him in this kitchen baking. So you’ll understand why I am offering to pick up dessert—”

“Appa, it’s because you’re never home when Omma is teaching me,” Beomgyu whines, stalking up to him and pushing him towards the door and out of the house, “Don’t buy anything. If you come home with dessert, I’m going to be really sad and disappointed in you.”

“Okay, okay,” Hyunbin says, kissing the crown of Beomgyu’s head goodbye. Then he turns to Yeonjun, “Heard you were semi-decent in the kitchen. Please make sure my son doesn’t burn our house to the ground. Have a good day kids.”

“Goodbye, Appa,” Beomgyu huffs and shuts the door on him. He stalks back to the kitchen where Yeonjun is waiting.

Yeonjun bites back a smile as Beomgyu rolls his eyes, going back to the chopping board where he’d been cutting up some strawberries into tiny little bits before Yeonjun had arrived.

“I love him, but he is dead set on embarrassing me in front of you. Aren’t dads supposed to hate your boyfriend?”

Yeonjun is so happy he doesn’t, that he’s joking around like this with him.

He pulls himself up on the countertop and sits there, so he can watch Beomgyu as he moves. “I don’t know, maybe that’s just the movies. Or maybe I’m just really loveable and that’s why he doesn’t hate me.”

Beomgyu laughs, “Ooh, where’s this confidence coming from? Remember when you were whining in my bedroom about how nervous you were?”

“That was a different me,” Yeonjun says seriously, “I don’t know him. I’ve always been confident and cool, like a cucumber—”

“Ugh,” Beomgyu interjects, making a face, “I hate cucumbers—”

Yeonjun pauses, racking his brain for a different simile but comes up with nothing, “Well, can’t you like it just for me?”

“I’m making so many sacrifices for this relationship,” Beomgyu shakes his head, chopping along, “It tastes terrible, hyung, but I’ll bear it just for you.”

Yeonjun giggles, leaning back as he does and hitting his head against the cupboards.

Beomgyu laughs at him, “You’re so funny, hyung. Nobody makes me laugh like you do. I really think you should give up on dancing and do comedy instead—”

“You aren’t even gonna ask me if my head is okay?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “You’re a hard-headed dummy, I think you’ll be okay.”

“Well,” Yeonjun purses his mouth, trying hard to look annoyed. He doesn’t quite succeed though—this kitchen is filled with so much light, it extinguishes even his attempt at contempt. He feels too much like a pleased cat under all this brightness, all this warmth. He wishes it could always be like this.

Yeonjun clears his throat, changing the topic, “So what are you making? Something with strawberries? Is it cake? Or is this for your strawberry milk?”

“So,” Beomgyu starts, while transferring his chopped strawberries in a separate bowl, “When I was younger, my mom used to take me and Hyunwoo-hyung to that same strawberry farm we went to. And then she would wash the strawberries and soak them in this vinegar water, it always smelled gross, and I asked her once, Omma, why are you doing that? And she said it’s to clean the strawberries so they would last longer.”

Beomgyu takes a whole strawberry from a pile, “I did that with these, try it—

Yeonjun lets Beomgyu feed him and is surprised to find that the strawberries taste sweet. There’s no hint of sourness at all. He looks at Beomgyu with wide eyes, “How?”

“Right? Isn’t that weird? But anyway, the taste doesn’t change and it lasts way longer, which is important because we’d pick so many strawberries that there’d be too much to eat.” Beomgyu takes one and eats it too, “So we’d snack on them like this, but if there’s leftovers, she makes this thing called a strawberry spoon cake, which is what I’m making today.”

“Oooh, I see,” Yeonjun nods, though he’s not really sure what a strawberry spoon cake looks like. “Is it going to be hard to make? Do you need me to do anything?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” Beomgyu says. He’s almost done chopping all of the strawberries and Yeonjun wonders what’s the next step. “Omma keeps saying it’s easy to make, but there’s a lot of ingredients to keep track of, so I get confused sometimes.”

Yeonjun raises a brow, “Are you sure you don’t want me to do anything? You have the recipe written down, right?”

“Yes, it’s on my phone,” Beomgyu says, flatly. “And my mom is a call away. If you really want to help, you can help read off the recipe for me as I go? My hands will be covered in ingredients and I don’t want to keep washing my hands every time to look at it.”

“Sure, give me your phone,” Yeonjun extends a hand out, but Beomgyu shakes his head, “Can you get it? It’s charging over by the outlet, next to the fridge.”

“I’ll get it,” Yeonjun says, hopping off the countertop to grab it for him. When he unplugs the phone from its charger, the phone screen lights up and he’s greeted by his own face.

He shouldn’t be surprised by it; it’s to be expected, considering they usually use each other’s photo as their background. And still—the visual reminder gives him butterflies. 

He walks back to his spot on the countertop and asks, “When did you take this photo?”

“Hmm?” Beomgyu hums distractedly, “Which one?”

“This one,” Yeonjun shows him his phone, where a picture of him looking very intently into his bowl of noodles is displayed. “Are you just taking random photos of me without my knowledge?”

Beomgyu looks shy at the question, “That one is actually older, from before we started dating. I saw it the other day when I was looking through my photos.” Beomgyu starts measuring out the quarter cup of brown sugar and his voice is small and quiet when he says, “You looked cute, so I used it.”

“You’re cute,” Yeonjun blurts out instead. His brain-to-mouth filter has never been the best and it’s crumbling under the onslaught of Beomgyu’s adoration. “I mean…”

Beomgyu’s nose crinkles as he laughs, throwing the brown sugar in the bowl of chopped strawberries and begins to mix, “Yeah, I am pretty cute. That’s why you like me, right?”

“One of the many reasons,” Yeonjun confirms.

“Oooh, many reasons?” Beomgyu’s eyes crinkle too when he smiles. The pretty sight disappears when Beomgyu turns around to grab some flour from their cabinet and a slew of other ingredients. “Wait before I start fishing for compliments, can you tell me how much flour and other things I need? It should be said in step 2 of the instructions.”

Yeonjun can’t open it without his passcode or thumbprint though, “Wait! Come here first and unlock it.”

“Try my birthday,” Beomgyu says, struggling to carry the big bag of flour. Yeonjun immediately stands up and helps him with it, though Beomgyu whines when he does, “I got it!”

“I know you’re such a strong boy,” Yeonjun coos, “but I will literally do it for you if you ask. What else do you need? Should I grab stuff off the top shelves for you?”

Beomgyu shoves past him, “You’re so annoying, go back to your spot and start telling me why you like me instead.”

Beomgyu is _so_ cute when he’s annoyed.

Yeonjun raises his hands in surrender and goes back to his previous spot. He does try Beomgyu’s birthday to unlock his phone, but it gives him an error, “It doesn’t work.”

Beomgyu thinks about it and then says, “Maybe try your birthday?”

Yeonjun smiles at that and tries it, but he frowns when he still gets an error, “It doesn’t work still.”

Beomgyu groans, “Fuck Apple. How come we have to change it every couple of months? I usually don’t even use it because of the touch ID thing.”

Yeonjun thinks of what password Beomgyu would probably have. “Soobin’s birthday?”

“No, I don’t think I used that,” Beomgyu mutters.

Yeonjun hums in thought. “Okay, I have an idea and if it works, you owe me a kiss.”

“Sure, hyung. I can kiss you even if it’s wrong,” Beomgyu offers with a teasing smile.

Yeonjun tries the combination he’s thought of and when the phone unlocks, he closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands, “You are so—”

Beomgyu excitedly comes up to him, like a cute puppy, and asks, “What was the passcode, hyung?”

Yeonjun puts the phone down in his lap and reaches for him. He cups his cheeks and looks into Beomgyu’s earnest eyes, “It was the date we started dating.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, shyly. His shoulders curling inward, like he’s a flower in reverse bloom. “A very important date.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun breathes, leaning over and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. When they pull away, Beomgyu’s eyes stay closed for a second longer and Yeonjun gets to watch him open his eyes, gets to watch the softest smile bloom on his face.

This, Yeonjun knows, is a gift. “You’re my sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu giggles, “Yes, I’m your sweetheart.”

Oh, he is pulling all the strings of Yeonjun’s heart.

“If you’re my sweetheart, then what am I to you?” Yeonjun asks.

“You’re my…” Beomgyu trails off, thinking, and then with a teasing smile says, “Yeonjunnie-hyung?”

Yeonjun nods, “Yes, but what else?”

“What else?” Beomgyu asks, pursing his mouth, “What else is there?”

“I want a petname too. How come I give you all these petnames and all I am is Yeonjunnie-hyung?”

Beomgyu laughs, “Is that what this is? It feels a little awkward for me to call you anything but hyung, though.”

Yeonjun pouts, “There’s so many options out there and none of them works for you?”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Beomgyu says, finally pulling away to go back to making the batter for his strawberry spoon cake. “Maybe offer suggestions?”

“But it has to come straight from the heart, Beomie,” Yeonjun says, sighing dramatically. “Like I can’t tell you what petname to call me. That’s not how it works.”

Beomgyu doesn’t bother replying to that, just starts humming a familiar tune under his breath as he opens up the bag of flour. “Hyung, can you tell me how much flour I need?”

“Oh!” Yeonjun suddenly remembers what started their whole conversation. He takes Beomgyu’s phone again and unlocks it, “Where do you keep the recipe? Notes app?”

“Yeah.”

Yeonjun finds the recipe easily. He reads, “Okay, you need one cup of flour.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, as he looks through the different cup measurements. He cheers when he finds the right one and scoops flour with it and dumps it in a bowl. “Done with that. What else do I need to include?”

Yeonjun dutifully reads out the rest of the batter recipe and Beomgyu adds it in one by one.

_One stick of melted butter._

_A third of a cup of brown sugar._

_A teaspoon of baking powder._

_Half a cup of milk._

_Half a teaspoon of salt._

And once they are all in, Beomgyu takes a whisk and mixes it all together, until the batter’s consistency is smooth, no clumps of dry ingredients left. Then really, all that’s left to do is to combine everything.

For that, Beomgyu takes a glass baking dish and greases it with butter. After that, he dumps the batter in, scraping the sides of his bowl so that none of the batter goes to waste. Then finally, he takes the strawberries that have been marinating in brown sugar and scoops it out and into the batter, carefully spreading it out evenly in the middle of the baking dish.

There is something so soothing about watching him do all this, something akin to how he typically feels when he watches Beomgyu fiddle with a piano, when they’re on Facetime and Beomgyu’s showing him a tune he’d thought of.

With all steps done, it’s ready to go in the oven.

Beomgyu puts on some oven mitts and opens the oven. He carefully places his baking dish on the middle rack and then closes the oven door. Beomgyu sighs, “I hope it turns out okay.”

“I think it will,” Yeonjun assures him, “You followed the recipe perfectly and now we just have to wait, what? Twenty minutes? And then we’ll see how it turns out.”

“I’m so tired all of a sudden, I was concentrating really hard,” Beomgyu sighs again as he stares at all the dirty dishes he had used. He turns back to stare at Yeonjun with pleading eyes, “Hyung, could you help me clean?”

“Ah, now you want my help,” Yeonjun pushes himself off the counter. Beomgyu gives him a sheepish smile, “But hyung, it’s a lot? And it would be nice if you could help me out a little bit—”

Beomgyu is being so fucking cute. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He ends up wrapping Beomgyu in a hug, squeezing him tight and rocking them back and forth, “Mmm, should I help? What would you give me for it?”

Beomgyu happily lets himself be held, resting his chin on Yeonjun’s shoulder, “Anything you want. I’ll give it to you.”

Somehow, Yeonjun thinks Beomgyu really means anything.

This, Yeonjun knows, is power. What do you ask of a boy who will give you everything?

Yeonjun shakes his head, pulling slightly away so that he could look at the trust on Beomgyu’s face, “You don’t have to give me anything. Hyung will just do it for you.”

“Oh, yay!” Beomgyu cheers and leans in to give him a smooch, “You’re the best, the coolest, the greatest—”

“I know,” Yeonjun grins, finally pulling away to start collecting the kitchen supplies Beomgyu had used and dirtied and places them in the sink.

As he does this, Beomgyu goes and fiddles with a bluetooth speaker that’s been set up in the kitchen. A soft tune begins to play and Yeonjun has to lower the strength of the water coming out of the sink’s faucet, so he can hear it better.

You see, Yeonjun has noticed something. When it’s quiet like this, Beomgyu loves to play some music to fill the quiet with warmth, and with a voice softer than the music that plays, Beomgyu always sings like a little hummingbird.

Yeonjun has never pointed this out to him, though he knows that if he asked, Beomgyu would probably shyly sing for him. But there’s something about getting to listen to him like this: Beomgyu does it unaware of his audience of one, no shame, no self-consciousness, and just as he typically would. Something pure lives in the sound of it; Yeonjun would like to record it for himself, so that he could listen to it on days when he’s having a hard time falling asleep.

Someday, he’ll ask Beomgyu to sing for him. Just not today.

Today, he’ll just listen to it like this, like a secret overheard as he’s washing dishes.

There exists a happiness so simple Yeonjun thought he could only find it in his own home. He discovered it there first, in the early hours of the weekends, when both his parents were home and in the kitchen making breakfast. He has always wondered if he could find it elsewhere and it stuns him that he’s found it again here:

Washing dishes and standing in the kitchen with someone wasn’t always like this. How did he get here?

The dishes are washed. The timer they’ve set for the oven dings. And when Beomgyu opens the oven door and takes the strawberry spoon cake out with careful hands, the entire kitchen smells like warm gold and spun sugar.

“Wow,” Yeonjun marvels, when he peeks over Beomgyu’s shoulder and sees that the cake turned out well. The edges are a golden brown and in bright red-pink contrast are the strawberries clustered like stars in the middle. “It looks amazing, Beomgyu.”

“It looks just like how Mom makes it,” Beomgyu says, quite pleased with himself, “But, it’s missing one thing. Hold on!”

He quickly runs to the cupboards, grabbing their kitchen’s box of powdered sugar, and in his excitement to rush back, he accidentally stumbles and Yeonjun watches as he goes down to the ground and the open box of powdered sugar flies in the air.

It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. Beomgyu scrambles to get up from the ground to catch the sugar, but it’s no use. Futile in the same way one tries to hope that the dark clouds don’t mean rain. They both simply stare as the powdered sugar comes down in a flurry, like wonderful snow in the middle of summer, like confetti at a birthday party, falling all over Beomgyu, on his dark hair, on the apples of his cheeks, and on his mouth.

He’s covered in it really.

Yeonjun bites his lip at first, trying really hard to keep it in, but it’s impossible. Yeonjun bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach.

“Hey!” Beomgyu yells, “Don’t laugh.”

But his angry expression is covered in powdered sugar, and it’s just too hard for Yeonjun to take him seriously. He laughs and laughs and laughs, until Beomgyu can’t help but laugh too.

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun covers his mouth, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, so he wouldn’t laugh again.

Beomgyu stands up with a sigh. “This is terrible. Omma is going to kill me.”

“It’s just spilled sugar,” Yeonjun says with cheer and goes to him to start brushing the powdered sugar off his hair.

“I did so well, until here,” Beomgyu complains, his own hands coming to brush the sugar off his face.

Yeonjun makes a noise of disagreement, “No, you’re still doing well. The cake looks good.” He starts brushing the sugar off Beomgyu’s shoulders, “this is just an accident.”

And accidents made of sugar cannot be anything but sweet.

Beomgyu shakes his head, shaking sugar off him as he does. “Did we get it all?” Beomgyu angles his face towards Yeonjun, “Is there anything left?”

“Honestly? There’s a lot left,” Yeonjun admits and Beomgyu groans, “I can’t do this—”

Yeonjun laughs, cupping Beomgyu’s cheek to steady him, “I will do it for you, just stop moving—”

Yeonjun already knows it’s impossible to get it all out, unless Beomgyu just goes and takes a shower.

This, Yeonjun knows, is indulgence. His sweetheart with his sweet face covered in sugar.

Yeonjun will stand here in this kitchen wiping sugar off him all day.

“I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a powdered donut,” Beomgyu muses, watching Yeonjun.

“Pfft,” Yeonjun is barely able to bite back a laugh, “Maybe so. Covered in sugar and waiting to be eaten.”

“How terrifying,” Beomgyu shivers, dramatically. “I am sure I’d taste really good, but I don’t think I’d want to be eaten.”

“I don’t think anybody wants to be eaten, ever,” Yeonjun responds, intently avoiding Beomgyu’s gaze. “But I agree, I think you would taste good.”

Beomgyu gently touches Yeonjun’s wrist, stopping it mid-sweep, and asks, “As a donut?”

“Yes, as a donut,” Yeonjun affirms, his own gaze resting on a spot on Beomgyu’s cheek.

“Just as a donut?” Beomgyu asks again, moving so that he’d be in Yeonjun’s line of sight. “You’ve kissed me before. I’m sure I taste good in general.”

Warmth begins to creep up his neck. This is _so_ cheesy, Yeonjun can’t believe this low-grade type of flirting is getting to him.

Beomgyu has a cheeky smile on his face, but his eyes tell all. Yeonjun inhales, unable to look away, “I can’t say. Your mouth is all covered in sugar. I don’t think it would be the same as before.”

“Then I would taste even better, right?” Beomgyu says then.

“Debatable,” Yeonjun breathes, “I’m not too much of a fan of sweets.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Beomgyu says, though he looks like he’s barely paying attention. His gaze sits lower now, right on Yeonjun’s mouth.

“Yeah, I think you would taste better like this,” Yeonjun carefully wipes the sugar from Beomgyu’s mouth with his thumb, “Just like this, just as you are—”

Mid-sentence, Beomgyu kisses his thumb and Yeonjun immediately forgets whatever else he was going to say. “Come here and kiss me already,” Beomgyu whispers.

Yeonjun doesn’t need to be told twice.

He kisses Beomgyu, again and again, long enough that by the time they’ve managed to pull away from each other, the cake they’ve taken out of the oven has cooled off.

It took an embarrassingly long time, but at least, Yeonjun can safely and surely conclude this: he could develop a taste for sweets as long as that sweetness comes from Beomgyu’s mouth.

Yeonjun is having so much fun in Daegu. He doesn’t even realize he’s been here for a week until his mom mentions it to him.

He gets a call from her in the middle of making strawberry popsicles with Soobin and Beomgyu. He sneaks back to his room to take it.

“Omma,” Yeonjun greets when he can see her video pop up on his phone, “How have you been?”

“I just finished going grocery shopping and I suddenly missed you,” She says, bringing her phone too close to her face. Yeonjun can only see her eye and nose. “I was unpacking what I bought and realized we still had a lot of ramen, since you haven’t been here.”

Yeonjun props his phone on the bedside table, so he can sit cross-legged on his bed. “I missed you too. Don’t worry, I’ll eat them all when I come back.”

She laughs, “I’m not worried at all. How are you?”

“I’m good,” Yeonjun says, “It’s been fun. We were making ice cream just before you called me. And we’ve just been exploring the city these past couple of days.”

“Are you eating well?” She asks, finally pulling her phone away from her face. She’s so cute.

“Yes, Omma. They’ve been taking me on a food tour here. I don’t think I’ve eaten anything bad,” Yeonjun boasts, “My first meal here, they took me to a really good restaurant for nureun guksu. Ugh,” Yeonjun sighs, “You would like it.”

His mom looks like she’s sitting at their dining table, and she’s looking at him fondly with her chin on the palm of her hand, “I’m sure I would. How was dinner with your in-laws?”

Yeonjun pouts, “I told you not to call them that. It’s _still_ weird. But it went well. They were all super nice and I only got threatened a little bit—”

“You got threatened?” His mom gasps, “Were you frowning? I told you, you have to be conscious of that—”

Yeonjun waves her concern, “It was typical stuff. I honestly expected it. I would have been surprised if I didn’t get the shovel talk. Beomgyu is the baby of his family, you know?”

She shakes her head, “So? You’re the baby of our family too. Should I give him the shovel talk when he comes over for dinner?”

Yeonjun laughs, “No, you don’t need to. He’s too sweet for that.”

His mom sighs, “Anyone can break your heart. All you need to do is give your heart to them—”

In the middle of his mom’s spiel, the door to his room creaks open and Soobin’s and Beomgyu’s heads peek in curiously.

Yeonjun raises a brow, “I’m just talking to my mom. I’ll join you guys in a bit.”

His mom cuts herself off and presses herself closer to the camera as if it would enable her to see who Yeonjun is talking to. “Who was that? Was that Beomgyu? Let me see him.”

“Omma, no,” Yeonjun scratches his head, feeling awkward. He glances back at the door to see Beomgyu pointing a finger at himself, as if to say _me??_ with such wide eyes.

“Come on, I won’t say anything embarrassing,” His mom whines, “Stop hiding him from me. Please? Yeonjunnie, my favorite son, please?”

“I’m your only son,” Yeonjun sighs, but it’s the type of goading he can never say no to. “Let me just ask him.”

He turns to Beomgyu and tilts his head, mouthing ‘ _do you want to?_ ’ and tries his best to look as non-pressuring as possible. ‘ _You don’t have to_ ’ he mouths too and means it. It was so nerve-wracking for him to meet Beomgyu’s family and he can’t even imagine throwing Beomgyu to a situation like that with no preparation.

But all Beomgyu does is take a deep breath and nod. Soobin pushes him forward and then gives Yeonjun a thumbs up, before leaving and closing the door. Yeonjun reaches for him and tucks him into his side.

His brave boy.

“Oh,” His mom says as Beomgyu comes within the camera’s view, “And who is this?”

“Omma, this is Choi Beomgyu, my boyfriend,” Yeonjun introduces.

Beside him, Beomgyu does a little bow and smiles brightly, “Hello, Eommonim! It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you too. Yeonjunnie has said so many good things about you, so I’ve been really waiting to meet you,” She says.

“Oh,” Beomgyu melts, giving Yeonjun a side-long glance. “He did? That’s very sweet of you, hyung.”

Yeonjun opens his mouth to respond, but his mom beats him to it, “He’s a sweet boy, isn’t he? Is he taking care of you?”

“He’s the best,” Beomgyu confirms.

“I’m glad,” His mom sighs happily, “That’s how I raised him—”

Yeonjun wants to end the call, “Omma, please—”

“Am I embarrassing you? What’s there to be embarrassed about? I’m just about to tell Beomgyu all your good points—”

Beomgyu pipes up, “I want to hear them!”

Yeonjun looks at him, feeling betrayed, and his mom laughs at the expression on his face, “Unfortunately, Beomgyu, I think Yeonjun is going to ‘accidentally’ end the call if I keep talking. But I’d like to feed you sometime. Come have dinner with us when it’s best for you and I’ll make you your favorite food.”

Beomgyu clutches at Yeonjun’s hand in excitement, “I would love that. Yeonjun-hyung shared some of the galbi jjim you made for him once a couple months ago and it was so delicious.”

“Oh he did?” His mom says with interest, “You are so sweet. I’m glad you got to eat some delicious food then. I won’t keep you here talking to an old woman like me then.”

“But you look so young!” Beomgyu interjects and his mom laughs in delight at the compliment.

“I like you a lot already,” His mom says, “Seriously, though, I won’t keep you here. I look forward to having you over for dinner.”

Beomgyu looks touched and raises his hand to wave goodbye, “I can’t wait. It’s very nice to meet you again.”

Beomgyu stands up and Yeonjun grabs his hand to squeeze it, “I’ll come out in a bit.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu smiles, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth and kissing the back of Yeonjun’s hand. And then he pulls away and walks out the door.

When he turns back to his mom, she’s looking at him with a knowing smile, “Oh, Yeonjunnie, my son. You are so far gone. When you told me you were meeting his parents already, I knew it then. What was it you said? _Omma, don’t call them my in-laws, we haven’t even been dating that long_?”

Yeonjun covers his face with his free hand, “It’s true, it hasn’t been that long.”

“The heart doesn’t move on a timeline, my love.” She says sagely, “Also, my galbi jjim? I only made that once for you when you were at school and that was that one time you surprised visited us.”

“So? I’m a nice friend so I shared it with him,” Yeonjun says, defensively. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

His mother raises a brow, “Hmm? I was only going to comment on how lucky he was that the one time I made you galbi jjim he got to try it. Because usually you eat that all by yourself too fast.”

Yeonjun refuses to disclose the true nature of the galbi jjim event, so he changes the subject, “What do you think about Beomgyu?”

“It’s wonderful to put a face to the name and the stories,” She says with a smile, “He’s pretty, and there’s something so bright about him. More importantly, the way he looks at you…”

She sighs, pleased, “Do you know how he looks at you?”

Yeonjun has seen it for himself. It’s blinding. He says simply, “He loves me.”

“I can see that,” His mother nods, almost to herself, “And? Do you love him?”

Yeonjun expects the question and still his answer sits heavy at the pit of his stomach. “I-I’m not sure.”

She makes a confused noise, though kindly she says, “If you’re in love, surely you’d know. It’s kind of an obvious thing. Either you are or you aren’t. It’s not a thing to be uncertain about.”

“Everybody says that,” Yeonjun says, averting his eyes, “That love is something you feel and that I need to stop spinning my wheels in figuring it out. So what should I do? Should I wait for it to come?”

Those last words he almost spits. It’s frustrating to be told the same thing again and again.

His mother pauses, taking in his words, “Why are you so stressed about this? What’s bad about waiting for it to come? You said it yourself it’s only been a couple months since you started dating. You’re so young, just enjoy dating.”

“But he loves me,” Yeonjun repeats, “Omma, I can’t sit still knowing he’s waiting for me to catch up—”

“If he loves you, then he must be happy to wait. Have you talked to him? Or is he pressuring you—”

“No, no,” Yeonjun is quick to deny. “He’s too good to me, Omma. He says he won’t even tell me he loves me just in case I feel pressured to say it back. Says he doesn’t want me to feel uncomfortable.”

“Then, there you go. Listen to him then. Or is it that you don’t trust that he’s telling you the truth—”

“It’s not about trust. I trust that he’s saying that honestly.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” Yeonjun swallows, “I want to be right where he is. I don’t want him to wait. I want to say it back as soon as possible. But I can’t do that until I figure out my feelings.”

“There’s two things here that’s confusing me, Yeonjunnie.” His mother puts two fingers in the air, “First, why are you rushing?”

“Because.” Yeonjun starts then stops. This, he realizes, is the first time he’ll be talking about the events of the past semester, the practice dating and the terrible end of it, to someone outside of Soobin and Beomgyu.

Yeonjun’s failings in full display.

But who better than her to tell all of it?

It’s his mother who would judge him the least for it. She’s seen him through it all. “Because before we started dating, I hurt him really bad. I didn’t realize it, but I was leading him on. Did you know he liked me for almost two years before we started dating? I didn’t, because I couldn’t tell. I called him my best friend and I couldn’t read him. I didn’t know that I was hurting him.”

Yeonjun pauses to breathe before continuing on. Now that he’s started, the words are rushing out, like they’re relieved to be out of him. “And then I realized I had feelings for him way too late. I told him almost too late too. I could tell he was unsure if he wanted to try dating me, and to this day, I don’t even know why he said yes—but he did. He did and he’s the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“It doesn’t feel right to have someone this good, to receive so much goodness from someone, and not give anything back. He says it’s fine, that it’s supposed to be give and take, that I’m good to him too. But I just don’t think I’m doing enough.” Yeonjun frowns, wringing his hands on his lap, “I’ve been on the other side where I’ve given too much and received barely anything in return. I don’t want that for him.”

“Yeonjunnie,” His mom says, the same way she used to when he’d run wild as a child and come home crying because he’d tripped and bruised his knee. It makes Yeonjun wish he’d talk to her sooner about this or at least in person, because he’d really like to be held by her right now. “What makes you think you’re not doing enough? Do you think saying _I love you_ is the only way to make it right?”

“I didn’t mean—” Yeonjun tries to say, but when she gives him a well-meaning look, he swallows the denial down instead. 

“You’re treating love as something transactional. He loves you, so you want to say I love you back. You hurt him in the past, and it sounds like you want to tell him you love him to make up for it. There’s many ways to treat someone right, there’s many ways to make up for something. It doesn’t have to be I love you.”

He used to watch his mother embroider all the time as a child. Taking thread and separating it into its individual strands. Is that why she is so good at this? How did she know to separate Yeonjun’s guilt from his struggle to understand love? He didn’t even know how tightly he’d intertwined the two.

She looks at him, her hand coming up to the camera, like she’s stroking the image of him. “We all make mistakes. Even when we try our best to be good, we still hurt people. Even our kindness can hurt. But look, it’s inevitable. As long as we live, we’re bound to hurt people. Even a single bump against someone’s shoulders in the streets warrants an apology.”

“So, if it makes you feel better, just say sorry,” His mom says simply.

“But he’ll never accept it—” Yeonjun protests.

His mom shakes her head, “It’s not for him. It’s for you. Tell him you need it, tell him it sounds ridiculous, you know it does, but if he could forgive you for this, it would be really nice.”

“It’s for me?” Yeonjun asks.

“Maybe if you hear it from him, you can forgive yourself for it too.” She says with a small smile. “My son, that boy looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Whatever you think you’ve done, he probably doesn’t even think you need forgiveness for it.”

Yeonjun knows with absolute certainty that Beomgyu doesn’t think that at all. Not even close. In fact, it was Beomgyu who apologized for the whole thing. He feels his throat close up at the memory.

Yeonjun sniffs, “So I should just say sorry? I feel like I’m seven years old again asking that.”

“Well, you’ll always be my baby so that’s that.” His mom laughs, “But Yeonjunnie, seriously just say sorry and you’ll feel so much better. Stop carrying all this weight with you. You are normally so straightforward and headstrong. I’ve rarely ever seen you so tangled up like this.”

“I’ve never felt like this before, so I’m just as surprised as you, Omma,” Yeonjun admits.

Beomgyu brings out a whole side of him that has never seen the light before. This need to be careful when before he’d dive into someone head first without looking is new. The feeling of being so overwhelmed by someone’s sweetness is new. This almost unbearable feeling in his chest is new. All of it is newly Yeonjun’s and all of it due to Beomgyu.

“Is it love or is it not love? After all that we’ve discussed, do you still want to know?” His mom says, bringing them back to the start of their conversation.

There’s the guilt, yes. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’d still like to figure it out.

Yeonjun nods, so she continues, “Let me ask you this, because it’s really confusing me. You said you wanted to say I love you as soon as possible, right?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, unsure of where his mom is going with this.

“And the way you’re trying to achieve that is by?” His mom prompts.

Yeonjun frowns, “By trying to understand what love is. I want to know so I can tell if it’s love or not. And once I confirm, then I can go ahead and tell him. I just want to be certain.”

“Well,” She starts, dragging the word so that it hangs in the air and Yeonjun is waiting for the drop. “What if it’s not love, what then?”

Yeonjun blinks. “Huh?”

“I’m asking, what if you figure out what love is and what you feel isn’t love? What then?” His mom explains kindly.

“I...I…” Yeonjun feels deeply unsettled by the idea. _What if it’s not love?_ He shakes his head at the thought and tries to respond but no words come out. _What if it’s not love?_

“You don’t know? You never thought about it?” She asks, with a raised brow. “Can I tell you what I think?”

Yeonjun nods as his heart shakes.

His mother looks at him, straight through, right at his heart and says, “It’s possible that you don’t know what love is, lots of people don’t, for all kinds of reasons. But honey, I raised you on love. You were weaned off it. I would think that you would recognize it in yourself.”

Yeonjun frowns, “I don’t know about that. Love is love, but also, there’s so many different kinds of love? Like there’s the love we see on shows or the movies and then there’s the love that I see in real life and you know what, even the love I see in other people looks different from the love you and Appa have.”

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“Well, okay, in movies for example, there’s like the kind of love that makes people want to give up on everything they have to be with the other person. That love is...loud and dramatic and almost torturous?”

She nods, as if to say go on.

“And then, take you and Appa, for example, the love you have is quiet and comfortable? Like when Appa’s back hurts and you put those pain relief patches on him without complaints?”

“Okay, I get what you mean by that now.” She says, “But Yeonjunnie, that’s just the way love manifests through actions, which does vary from person to person and relationship to relationship. Love languages, I think, is what you’re getting at. But love, the feeling, is the same for everybody I think. That unshakeable warm feeling in your chest that keeps saying, _what about him? what can I do to make him happy?_ ”

At her words, something begins to balloon in his chest. It’s something that’s been echoing in his head for a while now.

“It’s funny,” She laughs, looking away from the camera and to something off screen. Yeonjun thinks she might be looking out their kitchen window. “When I was a little girl, I remember dreaming about love all the time. How someone will love me, how someone will take care of me and put me first, take me out on dates and buy me roses, and everything else the dramas had promised. But when I met your father and fell so deeply in love with him, I stopped thinking about those things. It wasn’t about me anymore. Your father has such a nice laugh, and I knew I was a goner when all I could think about was how nice if I could be the cause of it.”

She sighs, “I wanted him to be happy all the time.”

Yeonjun can’t help but smile at her words even when he's filled with trepidation at what she’s implying. He’s always swept away by the little tidbits his mom tells him about how she met his father.

How they fell in love in university.

How there was never gonna be anyone else after they’ve met each other.

This is the love he grew up on.

This is the love he’s always wanted for himself. So much so that on the first day of his freshman year of university, in front of the wish-granting mermaid fountain, he prayed that he’d meet the love of his life in university just like his mother.

His mother sounds so nostalgic when she says, “I was really scared at the time too.”

“What were you scared of, Omma?” Yeonjun asks.

“Well, love is wonderful but it can also be...a lot. Real love that is. I waited and dreamt of love for so long that by the time it came for me, I didn’t know what to do with myself.” She sighs, “Dreaming and waiting was easy, because everything about it is in your head and well, hope is a weed that grows without us doing anything. But love, real love, the reality of it staring at you right in the face? Terrifying.”

Yeonjun lets that sink in. Through the closed door, he can distantly hear Beomgyu and Soobin laughing. He plays with a fraying thread on the blanket he’s sitting on. He says nothing as the world continues to spin on its axis.

Finally, he says, “And what about real love terrified you?”

“Because it’s rare and precious and good. Once you admit it’s real love, the good love, the kind that keeps burning for a long, long time if you sustain it, then it’s out of your head and into your hands, tangible enough to be ruined.”

Oh, Yeonjun thinks. There it is.

The first thing anybody has said about love that’s resonated with him.

He blinks rapidly, his hands fisting the sheets as something balloons in his chest, as something shifts and clicks and locks into place—

Was the truth sitting there all along, waiting to be uncovered and unmasked?

Take off its cover and the truth, uncovered, unmasked, is a mirror.

It’s waking up on the last day of the semester and finding himself holding onto Beomgyu’s waist so tight—one might think Yeonjun was worried he would fly away in his sleep. It was their first time sleeping together in a while, and he’d woken up with an ache that spoke monologues of how much he missed the way they fit together like two little spoons.

There’s a mirror facing his bed. For the first few moments that morning, he’d watched Beomgyu’s sleeping face through the mirror, before he had gotten a glimpse of his own face and looked away completely. 

It's talking to Beomgyu on Facetime calls late at night, talking about everything and nothing. In between those two parentheses lived Yeonjun’s secrets and plans. The events of their days. The funny thing they saw on the internet. Their dinner that night. Their dreams. Yeonjun’s fears and back-up plans.

Yeonjun has heard many times of how much Beomgyu could talk, but rarely does anyone ever praise him for how well he listens. It’s a shame—Beomgyu listens through Yeonjun long-winding, long-winded monologues with so much patience it makes Yeonjun feel like he should apologize for it.

But all Beomgyu ever does is shake his head and say, _no, I like to listen to you talk about what you want to do_.

It makes Yeonjun realize that it isn’t patience that lives in Beomgu’s gaze. It’s care. And the realization softens him up, melts the self-consciousness away, and later—after they’ve said good night to each other, when Beomgyu has ended the call and his phone goes dark, showing only his face on the screen, he realizes he’s been wearing the most foolish smile he’s seen on anybody.

It’s setting aside time in the dance studio for himself. His days are typically filled with classes, choreography projects, and group practices. So much of his time is given to everybody else, it was necessary for him to carve out time in his schedule for himself.

Time to decompress and cool down. Time to listen and dance to a song he likes. Time for the song Beomgyu gave him.

_His song._

It’s light enough to close the day with and all its strings are enough to pull him up from the ground. And then, he's moving, feeling the music, until everything spills out of him, step by dancing step. He does this with eyes closed sometimes, listens to this song and dances to it too many times. Every time the music ends, his body comes to a stop; and when he opens his eyes, all he can see is the wish on his face.

_I wish Beomgyu was here to see this._

The truth is a mirror, and all along, Yeonjun has seen it on his face. He’d pushed it down because it was too early, too real, and buried it under so many layers of guilt and fear.

_I love him._

“Yeonjunnie?” His mom calls out to him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

_I love him, I love him, I love him—_

The balloon in his chest pops and with it Yeonjun breathes in, then out.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just—” Yeonjun rubs his face with his hand, “Just tired and thinking about everything you said just now.” 

He didn’t expect to have this conversation in the middle of the day, with the sun still so high up in the sky and its rays streaming out through the window.

“Oh, okay,” His mom looks at him with a worried smile, “Get some rest in between all of the fun I’m sure you’re having. Was Omma helpful at all?”

“You always are,” Yeonjun smiles, leaning close to the camera. He really wishes he’d had this talk with her earlier. He wishes they did this in person. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. You’ll talk to Beomgyu about what we talked about?”

“Yes, I will,” Yeonjun promises.

“Okay, I’m glad,” His mom smiles, “I’ll see you soon. Just enjoy the rest of your vacation, okay? Stop thinking so hard. Okay? I love you!”

“Thank you, Omma,” Yeonjun smiles back and waves goodbye.

The call ends with a press of a button and then, Yeonjun collapses into the bed and presses his face against the pillow. Lets himself feel as scattered as he actually does for a few moments. Then, he takes all of the scattered pieces of himself and arranges it carefully, so nothing is out of place.

When he walks out of his room and joins Soobin and Beomgyu in the living room, he moves like nothing has changed.

But inside—everything has.

Things look different in the light. They always have.

What once was shrouded in the dark, what once was buried in the ground, what once Yeonjun thought was a mystery looks incredibly clear in the light.

He can’t stop thinking about it. Every time he tries to think about something else, his mind spins back to the unearthed truth:

_I love him._

It refuses to be buried again; like a sunflower, it loves the light.

Not that Yeonjun would—he’s a slow-footed, coward, but he’ll be damned if he’s made to be a goddamn fool twice by his own hand.

Besides, when he thinks about who’s it all for in the end, any urge to push the truth to the back of his mind is gone. This is for Beomgyu and their relationship; two important things that are worth the trouble of working through this.

This, being real. This, being fear. This, being inexperience.

Yeonjun weaves just like his mother, and he’s weaved these three things so tight it’s become a single intertwined thread:

_It’s love and I’m scared, because I’ve never been in love before._

And he uses that thread to build a tapestry of thoughts, stitching rows of groves, groves of inquiries until he’s run out of thread. When he runs his finger against each row, it feels jagged and bumpy under his touch and it scares him that all his stitches end in an ugly messy knot. All except one he’s still working through.

Here’s the thing. Yeonjun is not a pessimist; he’s a realist.

There are plenty of people who fall in love who don’t end up together in the end. There are a number of people who end up with the love of their lives and still end up broken up.

And so, Yeonjun knows, sometimes, love is not enough. There’s so many different variables, so many different bad endings, so many different things out of his control.

Here’s another thing. Yeonjun is not perfect; he just tries to be.

He refuses to claim the title of perfect, even in the areas he’s considered to be talented in. He knows that good isn’t perfect, that there’s this immeasurable gap between good and best, and he’s trying so hard to build this bridge between the two and walk it.

In dance, he does that by putting hours upon hours of hard work to polish everything to the point where the end product is stunning enough to be shown to everyone else. Outside of that, Yeonjun is just doing his best to be better than who he was before.

And that’s the thing. Yeonjun is a trier. He’ll try again and again until he gets it right.

He hopes that it’s enough. Which is the root of it all really—what if it isn’t enough?

What if he tries and messes up and tries and messes up and Beomgyu decides it’s not enough for him?

Yeonjun has real love, in all its rarity, in all its preciousness, in all its ruby red glory in his clumsy hands. He doesn’t want to lose it—or worse, ruin it. 

He doesn’t know what to do with all of this. He needs to think about it further, he knows, but he needs to do that alone. And that’s difficult considering he’s with Beomgyu and Soobin for most of his waking hours.

Like today, for example, they’re all going together to see the Daegu Art Museum.

They’re taking the metro today too, instead of being driven around by Beomgyu’s car. It’s just the easier route, and it’s a nice enough day to walk, Beomgyu reasoned. Soobin had just sighed wistfully, it was nice getting chauffeured around. As always, Yeonjun doesn’t mind either way.

“To be honest,” Beomgyu starts as they walk to the shuttle that’ll take them directly to the museum. “This really isn’t about you today, hyung.”

“What?” Yeonjun raises a brow, “I thought this whole two weeks is about me!” He pokes Beomgyu’s side who squeals as he swats Yeonjun’s hand away. “Was I lied to? Huh? Huh?”

Beomgyu hides behind Soobin, giggling against his shoulder, “Well, everyone can benefit from a cultural standpoint, but I really wanted to see this exhibit. We might as well all see it together.”

“We’ve just been doing things Beomgyu has wanted to do this whole summer,” Soobin calls Beomgyu out. “If it were up to me, we would just do an eating tour and lie on the couch for the whole two weeks.”

Yeonjun laughs, “We’ve been doing that half the time. I feel like my body isn’t used to not moving so much after literally dancing almost every day for the past couple of months.”

“Oh god,” Soobin covers his mouth in mock horror, “What if you lose the abs?”

“Fuck,” Beomgyu curses, clutching Soobin’s arm, “Not the abs. I haven’t even seen the abs. Gone too soon. Rest in peace—”

Yeonjun closes his eyes, gives them five seconds of peace, before pouncing on both of them. They make a ruckus all the way to the shuttle stop, and they’re all still laughing by the time they get on shuttle.

Soobin beats them to the only empty seat, leaving them to stand and hold onto a pole instead as the shuttle moves forward.

Yeonjun is a mature person, so he graciously lets Soobin have the seat. That is until he sees Soobin sticking his tongue out at them. What’s Yeonjun supposed to do? Let this disrespectful behavior go? Yeonjun has to stick his tongue back out at him. It’s what Soobin deserves.

He sniffs, looking away. He focuses instead on Beomgyu, who’s holding onto the pole with one hand and holding his phone with the other.

“Whatcha looking at?” He asks, leaning close.

“Just checking to make sure the exhibits I actually came for are open,” Beomgyu explains, scrolling through what looks like the museum’s website. “It’s not common but the Daegu Museum of Art is actually featuring an exhibition called ‘Soundtracks’ and I thought it was pretty cool because it’s exploring the relationship of sound and art?”

“Ooh, that’s different? Usually, when I think of art, or at least art in museums, I think a lot of paintings?” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu nods, “Yeah, me too. But this museum is pretty different in the first place, because it deals a lot with modern art. So, it gets pretty out there in terms of what they’ll have displayed.”

“I see, I see.” Yeonjun says, “I feel like modern art is so popular these days. I always see people posing and taking pictures for instagram.”

At that, Beomgyu suddenly looks up from his phone, “Wait, I want to do that. Although…” Beomgyu looks at their clothes, “Kinda sad we don’t look like a couple.”

Yeonjun pouts, “We’re slacking, Beomgyu. We did better when we were practice dating.”

Beomgyu smiles, “Those were good times. I kinda miss it, not gonna lie.”

“You do?” Yeonjun asks, “Which parts?”

“Well,” Beomgyu hums, “I know we agreed that when we started dating that we’ll start over. But still, a lot of my firsts happened during that time. So even though everything ended, you know...” Beomgyu gestures vaguely, “I still think of it fondly. First time holding hands, first date, first...kiss.”

It boggles Yeonjun’s mind when he remembers that the entirety of Beomgyu’s romantic experience has been solely in his hands.

Briefly, he imagines what it’d be like if that weren’t the case? Would he feel less of a responsibility for it?

His free hand comes up to stroke Beomgyu’s hair, and feels something piercing at the way Beomgyu leans into his hand.

No, Yeonjun thinks, he will always be careful with this boy.

“I think about it too,” Yeonjun says, “You were so cute and shy and so, so polite. _Hyung, can we hold hands? Hyung is it okay—_ ”

Beomgyu hits his shoulder, “I was being considerate! How was I supposed to know what was allowed? I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable in case I was asking for too much.”

“It was never too much,” Yeonjun says, though what he means is, it was never enough.

And if he was being completely honest, what he’d say is this: he had developed an addiction for the clumsy, unsure way Beomgyu had reached for him, over and over again.

_You can hold my hand._

_You can hold it tight._

_You can do it again._

_It’s just my hand_ , Yeonjun had thought back then, _it’s just one little thing after the other_.

_You can ask for more and I wouldn’t mind_ , Yeonjun had almost said.

Beomgyu never did ask though. He always waited and always made sure Yeonjun was okay before he ever did anything. Yeonjun had to offer first, place the food in Beomgyu’s waiting mouth, and put what Beomgyu wanted in his hands.

That was how they came to be: Yeonjun had to unfurl Beomgyu's hands from the fists they had become, offer his heart and place it on his palms, and pray for him to take it.

Beomgyu snorts, “Maybe for you. Every time we held hands it felt like a big event. I was like, I should savor this. What if this is the last time?” 

_He liked me so much_ , Yeonjun thinks, _and he never asked more than what he thought he could get_.

Yeonjun watches him, the way he sighs and shrugs the words he just said off. “Fun times,” Beomgyu concludes, then goes back to scrolling on his phone.

There’s so much he wants to say, things like, _I want to be good to you all the time_. But words like that feel like they belong in the night, whispered in the silence carefully, packaged like a gift that’s meant for Beomgyu’s ears alone.

So instead, he moves his hand down the pole, so that his and Beomgyu’s hands are touching, his pinky curled up against Beomgyu’s thumb, and in a voice meant to be teasing, he says, “I’ll hold your hand forever if you want.”

“I want,” Beomgyu looks up and smiles, soft and tender, and Yeonjun thinks that maybe he missed the mark on teasing and landed all too close to sincere. It makes him want to curl up and hide his face, but he figures it was worth it if it pulls out a smile like that.

The two of them stand quietly like that until they reach the museum.

They thank the driver as they get off, and they soon find themselves purchasing discounted tickets with their university IDs.

Soobin is pleased, “I’m so glad we get discounts as students. It’s like, reparations for all the suffering we go through in university.”

“Agreed,” Yeonjun says, “Although, I’m kind of bummed I’m graduating next year, so I won’t be able to have them anymore.”

“You’ll get another type of discount though?” Beomgyu chimes in.

Soobin tries hard to cover up a snort, but Yeonjun hears it anyway. Soobin clears his throat, “Beomgyu...do you mean the senior citizen discount?”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, walking past the two of them high fiving each other. He grabs a map from the entrance and studies it, trying to get a good idea of what would be interesting to see.

He sees that the “Soundtracks” exhibit that Beomgyu wanted to see is all the way up on the third floor. Another thing that catches his eyes is the special section that the museum has dedicated to the works of Yayoi Kusama. He didn’t expect to find a familiar name and one like hers at this museum.

He knows of Yayoi Kusama, because of his interest in fashion. She’s well-known for her iconic polka dot prints, but her installations made of light were what she’s really known for. Yeonjun decides they’ll definitely need to stop by there.

The rest of the museum? He’s content to just walk around leisurely.

The first floor of the museum doesn’t have that many artworks for viewing.

It’s where the cafe is located though, as well as the souvenir store, which Yeonjun wants to visit after they’re done. Museums always had cool prints and art-related items, like shirts or mugs; he figures he’ll find something good there to bring home.

The first floor also has an outside garden, which features a variety of sculptures and interactive installations. When they step out into the garden, what captures his attention first is an area where it looks like a thousand strands of noodles are suspended in the air.

Yeonjun leads them to it with sparkling eyes. When he gets close enough, he realizes that they’re not actually noodles, they’re actually yellow plastic hoses that are suspended from a steel grid.

“Woah,” Soobin marvels, “Can we touch it?”

“Probably,” Beomgyu says, looking around for the little informational sign. He makes a noise when he finds it, “Okay, apparently this is called _the Penetrables_? It says….we can touch it. Actually, as I’m reading this, you’re supposed to actually walk through it.”

Yeonjun peeks over his shoulder to read the sign too. The words, _the viewer is also the artist_ , stands out to him the most. Interesting enough, when he looks at who this installation was created by, he sees that the name Jesus Rafael Soto & [you] listed. 

It’s the kind of art where the collaborative experience is the substance of it.

“This is really cool,” Yeonjun comments, “Let’s go in.”

Soobin rushes in, looking as amazed as a child, “Oh my god, this is fun. Do you think this is what it feels like to be like spaghetti?”

“Right?” Yeonjun laughs, walking in as well, and feeling like he’s walking through tall grass. “That was my first thought. They looked like noodles.”

“Is that why you went here first?” Beomgyu asks, but when Yeonjun turns to look at where he is, he looks like he got lost within the installation. There’s a bunch of the plastic hoses hitting him in the face.

Yeonjun doesn’t answer that question. He loves noodles, but this work did look genuinely interesting.

He’s not _that_ predictable. Is he?

Soobin’s hand lands on his shoulder and Yeonjun pulls him forward so that Soobin’s limbs aren’t in danger of hitting him. “You’re looking lost in the sauce, Soobinnie,” Yeonjun jokes. “Or should I say lost in the noodles?”

Soobin groans as Yeonjun laughs, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

“It was funny! When else am I going to be allowed to say that?” Yeonjun says. “I feel like we should be running through this together. Wouldn’t that be fun? Where’s Beomgyu?”

“Choi Beomgyu, come out!” Soobin calls out.

“I’m here,” Beomgyu answers back, and he seems to have been walking around blindly, because Yeonjun feels someone bump against his side, “Hyung, is that you?”

“Yeah, why are your eyes closed?” Yeonjun asks.

Beomgyu frowns, keeping his eyes shut, “Well, what if it hits my eyes and blinds me?”

“It’s not gonna hit your eye,” Soobin assures him, “I’m wearing contacts too and I’ve been fine. I want to see what it feels if we run through it. Let’s go back out first.”

To make it easy on themselves, Yeonjun leads them forward and out. Beomgyu immediately sighs and opens his eyes, “Oh my god, fresh air—”

“So dramatic,” Soobin rolls his eyes.

“Alright, guys, are we going?” Yeonjun asks.

“Yep,” Soobin and Beomgyu answer together, holding onto one of Yeonjun’s arms each.

Yeonjun nods, “Okay, on the count of three, we run. One...two...three—”

The three of them cheer loudly and charge through, looking like a bunch of children in a playground.

Yeonjun doesn’t care if they look like fools. This is the art that they’re making together, and nobody is allowed to rain on their parade.

They move on to another one after that. This time, it’s Beomgyu who points out that in the large field in the middle of the sculpture garden are big sculptures of apples and peaches scattered throughout. “They’re so cute. I want to eat it.”

Beomgyu bounds to one of the apple sculptures, crouching down next to it and throwing a peace sign up, “I want to take this home.”

The apple and him look just about the same size.

Soobin joins him and squats down next to a peach and clumsily bumps his head against it. Yeonjun shakes his head, “Dummy.”

Soobin sticks his tongue out at him and puts up a peace sign too, “Be quiet and take our pictures, hyung.”

Yeonjun sighs, pulling out his phone without further complaint, as Beomgyu and Soobin bicker about what pose they wanted to do. He hears Beomgyu mourn, “I wish I had a hair tie, so I can do the apple hair with it.”

“Your head looks like an apple already,” Soobin gestures, tracing an apple-like shape as he outlines Beomgyu’s head.

“No, it doesn’t,” Beomgyu retorts.

Yeonjun thinks that Beomgyu and Soobin should start a podcast or something at some point. He can listen to them bicker like this all the time.

“Alright, alright,” Yeonjun raises his phone and crouches down to the ground too to get a better angle, “Smile—”

The two of them smile brightly and Yeonjun ends up smiling back too as he takes multiple photos. Beomgyu springs up, reaching to take the phone from him, “Can I see? Do they look cute?”

“Super cute,” Yeonjun assures, “Almost got confused on which one was the true apple.”

Soobin makes a retching sound, but both of them simply ignore it. Soobin knew what he signed up for when he helped Yeonjun sort out his feelings.

Beomgyu asks, “Did you want a picture too?”

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s move on.”

They walk around the apple and peach sculptures, patting them as they walk past. On the other side of this fruit field are a bunch of spinning tops, though like the sculptures they are also larger than how they typically come.

They see a little boy approach one of the tops and climb onto it. Belatedly, Yeonjun realizes that these are actually designed to be chairs. Although, when the little boy tries to sit on it comfortably, the top immediately tips around, spinning as it’s designed to do.

Naturally, they want to try it too.

Soobin takes a seat on one and Beomgyu takes a seat on the one next to him. Yeonjun decides to take a seat a little bit farther away from them. He has a feeling this is an accident waiting to happen.

And happen it does. Yeonjun leisurely sits on his top, spinning slightly around, as he watches Soobin and Beomgyu laugh out loud. Soobin is spinning fast in one direction, unable to control the speed of his top, while Beomgyu spins intentionally fast in another direction. At some point, the tops of their head collide with each other and Yeonjun laughs so hard, he ends up toppling out of his own chair too.

It’s a great start to their day at the museum.

They move on to the second floor. Here the exhibits are a little less interactive and a bit more thought-provoking, though there isn’t much thought being provoked in Yeonjun’s head right now.

He’s standing in front of this toilet bowl covered in gold paint, where a crowd has gathered. Yeonjun is sure there is some underlying social commentary behind it, but whatever that is, he can’t figure it out himself. Nor does he care to spend time doing so. He shrugs as he moves past it.

“Hyung,” Beomgyu says, grabbing his hand and dragging him to a large piece of canvas that’s half painted red and half painted blue, “Can you stand here and pose? I think you’ll look cool.”

Yeonjun loves to please. He immediately poses, crossing his arms and leans on one leg while extending the other—a move that he knows makes his legs look longer. Beomgyu leans back as he tries to take a photo from a good angle, “Okay, I’m taking a couple.”

Yeonjun breaks the cool pose he’s doing and laughs, “Alright, I’ll take a look at them later. Where did Soobin go?”

They look around and see that Soobin had ended up in a room with a dining table much larger than life. Beomgyu laughs, “Wow, that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you look short, Soobinnie.”

Soobin looks like that emoji of a floating apparition with the way he’s standing under the table.

“Yo, why do they have so many large scale objects in this museum? What is the message here?” Soobin asks.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu also goes to stand underneath the table, “Maybe it’s to make us feel like little kids again? When everything felt big?”

Yeonjun joins them, “I feel like there really isn’t just one message. The message is whatever you feel like the message is.”

“What if…” Soobin says, “I just think this is a cool big table?”

“Oh, Soobie Doobie Doo,” Beomgyu goes to hug him, rubbing his head against Soobin’s shoulder, “I love your big dumb head.”

“Hey!” Soobin pushes his head away, “I’m not the one in the arts here. That’s you guys.”

Yeonjun smiles, “It’s okay, if it makes you feel better, I also think it’s a cool table.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “Okay, if it’s so cool, I’ll take a picture of you guys with it.”

Yeonjun throws an arm around Soobin, who throws another peace sign up. Beomgyu complains, “Look cooler please—”

“What does this brat want me to do?” Soobin mutters under his breath, but he drops his peace sign and copies the way Yeonjun is standing. Yeonjun chuckles though when he sees Beomgyu concentrating with the camera, he tilts his head to the side and smirks.

Once Beomgyu puts the camera down, Soobin turns to them, “Do you guys want any pictures together?”

“I do,” Yeonjun says, “But not here. I want it in that Infinity Room exhibit.”

“Huh?” Soobin says, “What exhibit is that?”

“It’s better if I just show you. Come on,” Yeonjun says to both of them, “It’s on the other side of this floor.”

The Infinity Room is what the artist Yayoi Kusama is most known for. She’s got multiple installations of it all around the world. Yeonjun has seen numerous photos of it on instagram and it looks super cool to say the least. He can only imagine what the actual experience of it would be like in person.

There’s a fortunately short line outside the room and the three of them wait patiently for their turn. The museum guide tells them that they’re allowed to take videos of the experience, but to please not take any photos with flash on.

Soobin goes in first, while the two of them wait for their turn patiently.

Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu, “Okay, babe. We have to be strategic about this if we want a photo.”

Beomgyu nods, determined, “What’s the plan?”

“Since we only have maybe a minute inside, I think that we should take a photo first and then spend the rest of the time actually enjoying the experience.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, “Are you taking the photo or am I taking it?”

“You’re the better photographer between the two of us,” Yeonjun says, “You can take it—”

“Excuse me,” The museum guide cuts in, “Please stand by. You will be entering shortly.”

After they say that, Soobin walks out with a stunned look on his face, “Guys, that was so cool, there was like water on the ground, and the lights were everywhere—”

Yeonjun nods hurriedly at him, “Okay, we’ll catch up after ours—”

Beomgyu waves at Soobin, right before pulling Yeonjun into the room. There’s a small hallway where everything is dark, and at the end is a heavy black curtain that’s hiding the Infinity Room. Beomgyu readies his phone camera in his hand and then they go in, holding hands.

It’s indescribable.

To describe it is to participate in an endeavor that will only fail, and it’s human folly to even try to do it. Yeonjun tries anyway.

He wants you to think of the most beautiful version of the galaxy you can imagine.

Think of standing knee deep in a lake where there is no light but the stars for miles.

Think of the big bang and how a part of you has always been there at the beginning of it all. Think that if our souls were made of anything, it would be starlight, and that starlight was blue, and if you and I were the universe and the universe contained multitudes—think of the starlight us extending in infinite directions.

How despite all of that indescribable largeness—think of how small you’d feel in a room like that. 

Yeonjun clutches Beomgyu’s hand tight and it startles Beomgyu out of his own awe into remembering that they have to take their photo.

He raises his hand and Yeonjun presses his body against Beomgyu’s back, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on Beomgyu’s shoulder. Just breathes in and thinks, _when the world makes me feel small, when I feel lost in its infinite waters, I tether myself to you._

He kisses Beomgyu’s cheek just as Beomgyu clicks the shutter on his phone.

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu breathes out, “My face in this photo. Why would you do that? We only had one chance—”

Yeonjun chuckles, kissing Beomgyu’s temple this time before looking around him again, “Don’t you dare delete that. I’m keeping that photo. Besides, it looks beautiful, you look beautiful—”

Beomgyu’s hand reaches up to caress his face and leans his head back against Yeonjun’s shoulder, “A beautiful place like this really gets you going, huh?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, not denying it. “This room is beyond my imagination. Absolutely pretty.”

“It almost doesn’t feel real,” Beomgyu says, “I was going to take a video too, but I don’t know. How do you properly capture the feeling of being here? It’s just not the same—”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Yeonjun says. He looks at the lights, eyes unable to settle on just one spot.

It’s almost too much to take in, the pain of the sublime.

Soon enough, the museum guide calls out that their time is up and they walk out the same way they walked in—hand in hand.

Soobin is eagerly waiting for them outside and he laughs when he sees their faces, “It was amazing, right?”

“Dude, it felt like I walked into an alternate universe,” Yeonjun shakes his head.

Beomgyu sighs happily, “I’m glad we did that. I didn’t even know this was here!”

Soobin says, “I was looking up this artist while you guys were in here. And apparently, there’s an installation like this in one of the museums in Seoul?”

Beomgyu gasps, “Really? We should definitely go. Take Taehyung and Kai with us. They would really like it too.”

“Yeah, I took a video and sent it to our group chat already,” Soobin says, “They’re like sending so many ‘wow’ stickers. I think that means they like it.”

Beomgyu checks his phone and doesn’t see what he’s saying, “Oh, do you mean your exclusive three person group chat? I see, I see—”

“Yeah,” Soobin raises a brow, “Gross oblivious couples like you two aren’t allowed in it.”

“Wow,” Yeonjun says, throwing an arm around Soobin’s shoulders and tightening it against Soobin’s neck, “To think I was about to give you a good dating tip right now—”

“Oh god,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “I’m going to the bathroom, I don’t want to hear what Yeonjun-hyung has to say.”

He walks off just like that and Yeonjun laughs, while Soobin worriedly says, “Oh god, what did you guys do in there? I don’t want to be associated with it—”

“Stop. Whatever you’re thinking it’s not it,” Yeonjun says, “I was just gonna say, when we go to the one in Seoul with Taehyun and Kai, make sure to go in with Taehyun. I’m sure it’s an experience doing it by yourself, but it was just so,” He gestures vaguely, clearing his throat, “It was something...having Beomgyu there with me.”

Soobin side eyes him, “Hyung, I’m glad for the tip, but this is kind of gross. I know what Beomgyu means to you, but please remember that I’ve seen Beomgyu puke on my shoes and Beomgyu pick his nose—”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “I’m just trying to have a heart-to-heart with you. Pretend it’s not Beomgyu I’m talking about.”

“That’s impossible,” Soobin scoffs and then says thoughtlessly, “I’ve seen you date other people in the two years we’ve been roommates. But I can’t picture you dating anybody else but Beomgyu now.”

It makes Yeonjun pause.

It’s a statement that absolutely rings true for him too. And given the state of his thoughts around Beomgyu lately, he feels that it’s a statement that applies way past the present. When he looks ahead into the future, years down the road and his plans for it, he can’t picture anyone but Beomgyu at his side.

“That’s true,” Yeonjun says lightly, “I guess you just have to accept that I’m going to be hopelessly sappy about him at very random times.”

Soobin sighs, but it’s fake in its heaviness, for he pats Yeonjun’s arm around him and says, “I’ll bear through it, because it seems to make you so happy, hyung.”

Yeonjun can’t help but smile, fondness for Soobin rising through him. He rests his head against Soobin’s for a brief moment of affection. “You’re really the best, Soobin. Come talk to me about your problems sometimes for a change. I can’t always be the mess between the two of us.”

“Of course, hyung.” Soobin assures him, “You’ve just had a rough emotional year. Watch, this coming semester, it’s probably going to be me stressed out and tearing my hair out.”

“Well, when that happens, I will be there for you.” Yeonjun says, “I’m concerned for you and Beomgyu actually. Third year is hard enough already, but you guys also have your research job going on and don’t even get me started on Beomgyu’s internship—”

“Oh, he’s not even thinking about that yet,” Soobin smiles, “He’s convinced he’s not going to get anything. The other day he was complaining about how he’s going to end up setting the music department on fire with how bored he’s going to be manning the front desk.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “He’ll get into at least one. I’m sure of it. He’s supposed to hear about it soon, right? It should be around this time?”

“Yeah,” Soobin confirms, “Either today or tomorrow, I’m thinking. Either way, it’ll be good to have an answer instead of sitting around waiting.”

Beomgyu comes back to them, being pensive like this. “Alright, comrades, are we ready? I think it’s time for the main event?”

“Main event?” Soobin asks, “How is anyone supposed to top the Infinity Room we were just in?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “This is the real reason why I wanted to come here. Maybe it won’t top the Infinity Room visually, but I think experience wise, this will be incredible.”

Yeonjun smiles, “Alright then, lead the way.”

They take the escalator to the third floor and turn right into the wing that houses the Soundtracks exhibit that Beomgyu has been awaiting all this time.

According to the introductory text printed on the wall, the Soundtracks exhibit is a meditation on sound with respect to contemporary art. It seems like it’ll feature multiple artists and their different approaches to using sound as the body for their art.

It’s no wonder Beomgyu is interested in it.

And not that, Beomgyu hasn’t been interested in the other works throughout the museum, but there’s a clear difference from the curiosity he displayed when they started at the gardens earlier to how he is now.

He clearly takes his time with each work, reading the blurbs for each exhibition carefully with the intent of understanding each work’s message to the fullest.

For example, there’s an installation where the artist has filled a large circular ceramic pool with water and placed numerous ceramic bowls to float in it. They float gently, moving as if pulled by an invisible force. Beomgyu sits in front of it for a good moment, concentrating on the bell-like sounds the bowls make when they clink together.

If it’s an interactive type of work, he takes the artists’ invitation to participate, sparing no time to fully take advantage of the work.

Yeonjun sees this when they happen upon an area in the wing where red electrical cords have been twisted to form the shape of a cloud. There’s a bunch of headphones off to the side and they’ve all taken one and put it on.

It’s an interesting experience, because the sound that you hear is different depending on what part of the red cloud you stand next to. Beomgyu gets up close and personal with the red cloud, meticulously moving around it until he feels like he’s gotten out all that he can from the experience.

Beomgyu takes so much time doing this that Soobin ends up abandoning them and choosing to move on to another room. Yeonjun is fine to linger wherever Beomgyu is, though it’s less about the art and more about how he thinks Beomgyu’s reactions are more interesting than whatever else the museum will provide.

He wonders what Beomgyu is thinking about. Yeonjun is a fan of music, he is a dancer after all— but his experience with music is purely from a reactionary standpoint. He imagines it’s a little bit different for Beomgyu, who knows the mechanics behind the creation of a sound. Yeonjun is interested to see what his thoughts are on the whole thing after they’re done.

Eventually though, they end up in this dark room, filled with eight different screens placed all around the room.

Each screen shows a different location of a house, though given its size the better word would be mansion, and in each location sits a different musician with their own instrument to play. And though they sit separately, somehow they all play different parts of the same haunting song.

_This song_ , Yeonjun thinks as he wraps his arms around himself. There’s something about it.

It’s not a loud song. It’s not even the type of song he’d usually dance to. The percussion is soft though it’s there like a heartbeat, the strings are mellow but warm, and the melody born from the piano and singer sounds like the dawn ending the night.

Hopeful isn’t the right word, but it isn’t quite hopeless either. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to make of it.

He’s standing in front of a screen, which shows a man playing the piano in his dusty corner of the mansion. There isn’t much to see, not much to focus on except for the way his hands glide against the keys, nothing except for the music that hums and hums.

It almost makes Yeonjun feel like he’s intruding on something private, like he’s walked into someone’s house and he’s peeking through the windows or peering his head inside a room he shouldn’t be in.

As he focuses on the music, he realizes that the song has very simple lyrics. There’s maybe four lines that repeat over and over again. But it’s not a simple repetition either. Though the lyrics are the same, the feeling is different each time it repeats.

What began as quiet has become full of soul—though maybe Yeonjun has made a mistake. Quiet doesn’t mean dead. This song feels very much alive, kind of like water. The water in quiet rivers is the same water that lives in the ferocious sea, after all. And with each go around, each repetition of the lyrics, Yeonjun feels like he’s slowly being submerged in water. 

He feels cold and warm at the same time, goosebumps rising up and down his arms. He breathes out a breath he’s been holding, though the sound of it is drowned out by the song’s emotional riptide that’s caught him.

He looks around, feeling a little bit self-conscious at the effect the performance has had on him, but everybody seems to be in the same spell that he’s in. Everybody is transfixed by the music, all feeling like they’ve walked into something much larger than life.

_Beomgyu_ , his heart leaps. _Where’s Beomgyu?_

He walks around the room and finds Beomgyu standing in front of the screen where a woman sits alone with her cello. He looks small, much smaller than he usually looks, further underscored by the way he’s hugging himself.

He’s pulled by the sight of it, already walking over to him.

He doesn’t need to hug himself like that. Not when Yeonjun can do it for him.

What are Yeonjun’s arms for, if not to hold him?

When he comes up to him, Beomgyu looks at him with such watery eyes and it just makes him ache.

“Hyung,” he whispers, and Yeonjun wordlessly wraps his arms around his frame, sighing when Beomgyu hugs him back, his arms snaking around Yeonjun’s waist.

_You too?_ Yeonjun wants to ask. _You felt it too?_

But it’s a needless question. Yeonjun already knows just by the look in his eyes, that although he’s been standing in a separate part of the room, he’s had exactly the same experience as Yeonjun.

He sways them together, moving as one with the music, and Beomgyu leans up to his ear and asks, “Hyung, can you translate what they’re singing for me?”

Yeonjun nods, his hand running down the back of Beomgyu’s head, stroking his hair as Beomgyu rests his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder. Yeonjun closes his eyes, lets the music wash over him, and begins to translate.

“He’s singing over and over again the same lines,” Yeonjun murmurs against Beomgyu’s hair, “ _Once again, I fall into my feminine ways…_ ”

The two of them watch the cellist as she plays, her controlled movements, how she breathes in the same way her cello breathes out something airy. “ _You protect the world from me as if I’m the only one who’s cruel,_ ” Yeonjun half says-half sings, “ _You’ve taken me to the bitter end._ ”

Beomgyu makes the softest pained noise, barely heard and punctuated only by the way his hold on Yeonjun’s waist tightens.

“ _And once again_ ,” Yeonjun repeats, the two of them swaying to the haunting melody that walks around them in a circle, like a ghost, “ _I fall into my feminine ways…_ ”

And the ghost didn’t know whether to lull them to sleep or to bring you your tears.

_Once again_ , the singer croons, and Yeonjun thinks about how if inevitability had a sound this would be it. _I fall into my feminine ways._

He thinks of inevitability, of pain, and of his mother. How she’d unknowingly passed on her eyes, her ways of loving, and the same fear of love to her only child.

He thinks of the way Beomgyu holds onto him. He thinks of all the ways he can potentially ruin this. All the ways the world can ruin them. There’s pain in the past and there’s so much that could happen in the future.

If Yeonjun truly loves him, he should be selfless and let him go before they get the chance to ruin each other completely.

The singer croons the next words delicately, and so Yeonjun does too. “ _There are stars exploding_ ,” He breathes, “ _And there is nothing you can do_.”

And yet, his heart says. And yet, you don’t move your hands. You tell him please wait. You’ve molded your body into a hearth. You’ve tidied up your single cell heart and made room.

How long have you loved this boy?

Yeonjun doesn’t know how long. Does it matter when it began?

Does it matter how it ends? The heart that only beats and beats asks.

If everything ends, then does nothing matter? Or is it that everything matters much more?

On the screen, the two of them watch as everyone wakes up from their melancholic states, shaking away the defeat like it’s sleep, and walks out of their rooms and onto the bright green outside.

Though still they sing the same song— even as one by one the screens turn dark.

It takes a moment for both of them to take themselves out of the spell that’s been cast on them. And even when they manage to pull themselves from each other, they speak softly.

Beomgyu wipes at the corner of his eyes, “That was a sad song. I felt it even before you translated it for me.”

Yeonjun looks at his red nose and at the sad curve of his mouth, “It doesn’t have to be sad. You love your sad songs, but you’re so bright. You can rewrite it, couldn’t you?”

“I could,” Beomgyu murmurs, “That line...you protect the world from me as if I’m the only who’s cruel...I didn’t expect that to be in there.”

“Is that something you would change?” Yeonjun asks.

Beomgyu hums, “Maybe. We could change it to _you protect me from the world as if I’m the only one who's kind_ , though I don’t think that would make it less sad.”

“What’s so sad about that?” Yeonjun asks.

“Well, for one, I think the world is beautiful and there’s so much love in it that I think it’s kinder than most people give it credit for,” Beomgyu answers, “And…”

It’s a very Beomgyu answer to give. Yeonjun prods for the rest of it, eager to hear more, “And?”

“And two, well, I was thinking of you when I said that. It’s a bit sad because it implies that I’m the only one who’s good, when you’re probably the kinder one between the two of us.”

Yeonjun feels his heart clench at his words, needs a little time to himself to unpack that, but he purses his lips and says, “I think we can agree to disagree on that last point. We’ll be here all day arguing about it if we don’t. So you’re saying it’s still sad? Then maybe we just change the song in its entirety?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Maybe we don’t need to change anything. It’s beautiful in its own sad way.”

Beomgyu pulls his hand, so they can exit the room and back out into the bright space of the museum. “It’s enough that it’s beautiful. We don’t have to turn it into something that it’s not. It’s enough.”

Enough, Yeonjun repeats in his head. A concept almost foreign to someone who’s never quite satisfied, who works hard to polish and polish until something is perfect.

To leave something as it is, to let it be, and not think of everything it could become is something he struggles with.

He thinks and thinks and thinks about it, long after they’ve exited the exhibit, long after they’ve met up with Soobin again, and after they’ve bought what they’ve wanted from the souvenir store. It makes him a little quiet, but Soobin and Beomgyu are happy enough to let him stay that way as they fill the silence with chatter.

On their shuttle home, Yeonjun sits by the window with Beomgyu, while Soobin stands beside them.

The sun is about to set, and she paints everything pink, orange, and gold. Yeonjun thinks that this too is fleeting, that this too will end. But it’s so glorious in its beauty that he finds himself focusing less on the end and more on enjoying it while it lasts.

He lets himself bask in the light.

Maybe this is what Beomgyu means when he says that it’s enough that it’s beautiful. Enough that it happened, enough that they grew from the pain, enough that it brought them together. They have made it here, a point where Yeonjun can close his eyes as he leans his head against the window. He can breathe well knowing with absolute certainty that Beomgyu won’t let go of his hand until Yeonjun asks him to. Because Beomgyu loves him.

And it’s time Yeonjun lets him know that he wouldn’t ask. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Because Yeonjun loves him too.

And maybe love isn’t in his hands, that it’s not a ruby-red strawberry waiting to be crushed. That maybe Soobin is right, love is on the outside. That maybe Beomgyu is right too, it’s on the inside. Though Yeonjun thinks love is a lot more like light.

Everywhere in a million different colors.

It’s there in the sun setting in the west, bright pink, and it’s here, in the sun rising in Yeonjun’s heart, golden.

So maybe, Yeonjun will stop thinking and just let it be.

Let the fear stay because to be brave isn’t to lose the fear. It’s pushing through that fear and doing what you’ve been scared to fully do this whole time.

And there’s no one in this world but Beomgyu who makes him brave enough to do that.

Yeonjun has a plan.

His time in Daegu is ending soon. He’s only got a couple of days left, before he’s back on the train and on his way home. He really doesn’t know where the time went, but it’s been good.

Yeonjun has had the happiest time here and he’s sad that he can see the end of his vacation. It means that he’s going to have to come back to the real world. Face the future where he’s an actual senior in university, barely a year from being a True Adult™.

The passage of time has never been more terrifying.

Those fears are long-term in nature, though, and he’s more concerned about something closer to the present.

He’s coming back to Seoul soon and he hasn’t told Beomgyu he loves him yet.

Ever since Yeonjun realized it, he’s been trying to find a good time to tell Beomgyu. A part of him thinks that he should just tell him as soon as he gets the chance. But for all his worries about making Beomgyu wait too long, he finds himself wanting to save it for a special moment, which could come earlier than anyone might think.

It is their monthsary in a couple days, after all.

And Yeonjun does have a plan.

A plan that relies on Beomgyu’s enthusiastic agreement and Soobin’s understanding. Since the latter is only needed when he has the former, he decides that he needs to introduce this plan to Beomgyu first.

He gets an opportunity to do that when they decide to make bracelets on Beomgyu’s bedroom floor.

“I love arts and crafts,” Soobin declares, “This is the best activity we’ve planned to do this whole time. The AC is on, we have snacks on hand, and I’m going to be sitting down the whole time. Who thought of this?”

“Stop acting like you haven’t been enjoying all my fun ideas,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, as he sets a box with the words “bracelet making kit” in a pink bubbly font on his bedroom floor. “Personally, I think you’re the one enjoying them the most, even though you’re grumbling through it. Remember when you said you hated hiking? I was texting Taehyun the other day and he said that he wanted to go hiking too, because you said you had tons of fun.”

Yeonjun takes a seat, cross-legged on the floor, and quietly takes a sip of his iced tea. He grabs the box closer to him and opens it, delighted to find there’s an assortment of bead colors with all sorts of different designs.

Beside him, Beomgyu and Soobin continue to argue.

Soobin says, “That’s because I’m trying to convince Taehyun to come here by enticing him with activities I know he’d like, okay?”

Beomgyu sniggers, “So romantic. I’m excited to climb the mountain you hate with you again.”

“Shut up! You know there’s only so many tourist-y activities we can do. Also, who says you’re coming?”

“Of course, I’m coming. I want to see Taehyun too. Don’t worry, Soobin. I’ll be a good third wheel. I’ll hold both your hands and look away when you guys try to kiss.”

“You’re funny. You’re so hilarious. You deserve an Oscar for being the comedian that you are. Everything Taehyun and I will be doing are dates, so Taehyun is not going to let you come.”

“Wooooooow. Taehyun literally loves me. I’m Taehyun’s favorite hyung.”

“Is that what he told you? Because as his boyfriend—”

Yeonjun clears his throat, “Alright guys, break it up. Are we making friendship bracelets or what?”

Soobin and Beomgyu turn to him with wide eyes, like they both forgot the original purpose of why they were gathered here today, before turning to each other with narrowed eyes. Beomgyu moves away first, but not before sticking his tongue out at Soobin. Soobin only rolls his eyes.

Yeonjun sighs. They are children. He wonders if it’s because the two of them have known each other for so long that they always regress back to their most childish forms with each other. They are so lucky he’s fond of them.

Beomgyu grabs a bunch of beading elastic and doles them out, “Okay, so this kit I bought gives us multiple options of what type of bracelet we can make. But I asked the store and they said the stretchy type of bracelet was the easiest one to make, so we’re doing that.”

“Are we making them for each other?” Soobin asks, stretching the elastic between his hands, “Or are we making it for ourselves?”

Yeonjun says, “It would be cute if we made it for each other. Let’s make two each. I’ll make one for both of you.”

“Okay, hyung,” Beomgyu says. “Please make mine cuter than Soobin’s.”

Soobin only smiles and adds, “Please make mine cuter than his, Yeonjun-hyung.”

Yeonjun laughs, “I’m going to make both of yours look exactly the same.”

Beomgyu gasps, “How could you say that to me? Your boyfriend?” He turns to Soobin, “Yah, let’s make his ugly.”

Soobin nods, “I’m gonna misspell his name on his bracelet intentionally.”

“You guys are the worst,” Yeonjun grabs the instructions manual to see what the steps are to making a bracelet. He skims through it and finds that it’s not too bad. Beomgyu did good by asking the store first. “Alright, it looks like we have to measure each elastic and make sure that they are long enough to be wrapped around your wrist one and a half times, but it’s apparently better to have it longer so it’s easier to tie it later.”

Beomgyu hums, “Okay, so to make it easy, should we measure each other’s wrist one at a time?”

“I think it’ll probably be better if we just measure our own wrist for each other,” Soobin suggests.

“I agree with Soobin,” Yeonjun says, already taking the elastic and wrapping it around his wrist. The other two follow him and do the same.

Once they’re finished with that, Yeonjun takes the instructions again and reads, “Next step, we have to tape one end so that when we put the beads through, it doesn’t fall off. After that, we can start decorating.”

The three of them take turns with the tape, passing it to each other once done. Yeonjun gets it first and finishes taping his two elastics. He decides he’s going to do Soobin’s first and looks through what beads they have that would be perfect for Soobin’s bracelet.

Sorting through the beads, he finds the letters to make Soobin’s name and then decides to bracket his name with two cute little ice cream cones. For the rest of the bracelet, he also grabs a handful of the plain blue and white beads. Once he has all of that, he starts pulling the beads through the elastic.

There’s something so soothing about this. It’s a simple and almost mindless activity but it involves the act of creating something with one’s bare hands.

Yeonjun feels the same way about cooking. He likes the way his mind clears out when he chops vegetables and the pleasure he gets from seeing it all come together in the end. It’s even better when he makes food to share with someone else. He likes seeing their reaction when taking that first bite, loves the way their eyes light up and look at you with wide eyes, nodding in wordless approval.

He finishes making Soobin’s bracelet pretty easily. He looks at the instructions again for the next step and then follows it carefully. He takes off the tape on one end and carefully ties the two ends together tightly. Then, he cuts off the excess elastic and puts a little bit of glue on the knot, before sliding an adjacent bead over it to keep it hidden.

And then, it’s pretty much done.

“Soobin,” Yeonjun calls out, “Give me your arm.”

Beomgyu perks up, “You already finished it?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says. Soobin carefully holds onto his string of beads with one hand and then extends his arm towards Yeonjun, who puts the bracelet on his wrist for him, “There you go. Blue bracelet for Soobin.”

Soobin turns the bracelet around, admiring it, “I like it, hyung. Why the color blue?”

Yeonjun shrugs, “You look good in blue. That’s your color.”

“Hmm,” Soobin takes his hand back and studies the bracelet, “I read this thing in class about the psychology of colors. Apparently, blue is associated with the feelings of comfort and serenity.” Soobin smiles cheekily, and places his hand on this heart, “Hyung, I’m touched.”

Yeonjun scratches his head.

Soobin’s not wrong. He’s the person Yeonjun goes to for advice, and hanging out with him always puts Yeonjun at ease. Not that Yeonjun was going to tell him that. Also, he really did just use the color blue, because he liked the color on Soobin. He ends up shrugging, “You’re free to think that, Choi Soobin.”

Soobin chuckles, leaning over to Beomgyu and whispering rather loudly, “Look at hyung, why can’t he talk about how much I mean to him without getting embarrassed?”

“Soobin, come on. You’ve known him for two years already. He can flirt with anyone so bravely, but the moment it comes to serious things, he gets all shy and cute.” Beomgyu explains like he’s reciting from Yeonjun’s hypothetical Wikipedia page.

Someone having this much knowledge of him would be mortifying if it had been anyone else. But this was Beomgyu, and for that reason alone, it feels good to be known.

Yeonjun shakes his head and gets started on making Beomgyu’s bracelet. Before he can get anywhere with it, Beomgyu taps his hand and says, “Hyung, how did you close yours?”

“Let me show you,” Yeonjun says, reaching for the work-in-progress bracelet in Beomgyu’s hands. “So you take the two ends right, take the tape off first too, and then you tie it together the same way you’d tie a shoe lace and then you do that again tightly.”

Yeonjun takes the scissors and snips the ends where there are excess strands of the elastic. “After that, you take a little bit of glue and put some on the knot. I just slid a bead over it so you don’t see the knot.”

Beomgyu nods, “Okay, I think I got it.”

Yeonjun looks at the bracelet, at the cute little smiley face beads, the overall pink theme, and then at the ‘YJ’ initials at the center of it all, “Did you just ask me to help you make my own bracelet?”

Soobin looks up laughing, “That’s great, hyung. That’s how you ensure the quality is good.”

“At least put the bracelet on my wrist!” Yeonjun whines, handing it to him and extending his wrist.

“Hehe,” Beomgyu cheekily says as he takes Yeonjun’s hand and slips the bracelet on, “Think about it this way, hyung. Now, this is a bracelet we made together.”

Yeonjun, to his own surprise, flushes at Beomgyu’s words, “I…”

Beomgyu smiles at him brightly and Yeonjun wants to slap his own head for being so affected over nothing. Yeonjun clears his throat, “Anyway, Soobin let me know if you need help tying it. Or Beomgyu can help you.”

Soobin and Beomgyu laugh at him, with Beomgyu wrapping his arms around for a hug and kissing his cheek, “I adore you, hyungie.”

Yeonjun pats him on the head, wondering if he’s saying that in replacement of something else.

Because that’s how Yeonjun had used it that one time, in the bathroom cleaning the cut on Beomgyu’s finger. _I adore you_ was a placeholder, a preamble if you may, for Yeonjun who had been unable to say I love you.

He wonders if Beomgyu is feeling the same thing as he is now: a complex mix of warmth from the beam of adoration but cold from the want to hear the words I love you.

He feels like he’s earned the right to hear it now, that if Beomgyu says it now, he’ll say the words back surely and clearly for Beomgyu’s heart to catch. But Yeonjun doesn’t want to say it _here_.

It should be special.

Yeonjun gets started on Beomgyu’s bracelet, chooses to make it in the color red because it’s his favorite color on him, takes the beads with the words B and G so theirs would be matching, and lastly chooses a special little bead to finish it off. He carefully threads each bead through the elastic, watches it slowly become something pretty enough to rest at Beomgyu’s wrist. He ties it, one and then twice, like he’s making a promise, and thinks, _the next time I hear I love you from Beomgyu, it’ll be_ , _I love you too._

Because this time, it’ll be Yeonjun making the first step.

He’ll say, _sweetheart, I’m sorry for making you wait so long, but I’m here and ready._

He’ll say, _I’m sorry it took so long, but it’s scarier than you think, and you’re the braver one between the two of us._

He’ll say, _I’m still scared but I can be brave because it’s you._

For the first time in his life, he’ll say, _Beomgyu-yah, you’re the first to hear this—_

“I’m done with yours, Beomie,” Soobin says, throwing the bracelet at Beomgyu, “I worked really hard on it, so if I don’t see you wear it, I’m gonna cut your hand.”

Beomgyu gasps turning to Yeonjun, “Hyung, are you hearing this? He’s threatening bodily harm against me.”

“It’s okay, baby,” Yeonjun coos, “You won’t lose a hand if you just wear his bracelet.”

“Hyuuuuung,” Beomgyu whines, feeling betrayed, “You’re supposed to say, don’t think about touching my boyfriend, Soobin.”

Yeonjun laughs at his cute expression.

Soobin cackles and tries to reach over to high five Yeonjun, but he accidentally starts choking on his own saliva mid-way. Beomgyu doesn’t even bat an eyelash, just sniffs, “I hope the two of you are happy with each other.”

“Oh, god,” Yeonjun concernedly pushes his iced tea towards Soobin, “Don’t die, it’s too late for me to find another roommate.”

Soobin gulps down Yeonjun’s iced tea and gasps out for air, “Technically, Beomgyu can give up his place and move in with you, if worse comes to worse.”

Beomgyu sighs, “I wish. I already signed my lease for the year. Also, if you die, I don’t want to stay in your room. Your ghost would haunt me.”

“Besties even after death,” Soobin says, somberly.

“You guys are so morbid,” Yeonjun complains, but Beomgyu simply nods in agreement, “You bet, Soobinnie. Together forever.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, turning Beomgyu’s bracelet in his hand. Beomgyu continues, unprompted, “Personally? I would haunt Yeonjun-hyung.”

“Huh?” Yeonjun says, turning to him.

Soobin shakes his head, “I already knew you’d say that.”

Beomgyu says, “I’d like, watch him eat his food and then when he’s distracted, I’d eat some of it. He’ll be like,” Beomgyu scratches his head (a poor imitation, in Yeonjun’s opinion), “Didn’t I have more food before? Did I already eat this much?”

“You’re terrifying. Ghosts can’t even eat.” Yeonjun retorts.

“I’d find a way,” Beomgyu says with finality.

“What does that mean? Beomgyu, I’m scared.” Yeonjun tries to make eye contact with Soobin, but Soobin is too busy working on Yeonjun’s bracelet to pay him any attention.

Yeonjun sighs, “Whatever, also, I’m done with your bracelet, Beomgyu.”

“You are?” Beomgyu asks.

“Yep,” Yeonjun leans closer to him and takes his left arm, putting the bracelet on his wrist for him. “Ta-da. It looks pretty, right?”

Beomgyu brings his wrist closer, so he can see the design, “Oh, this is cute! I like the color and then you put my initials—”

Yeonjun can’t weave any red strings of fate, but he can make his boyfriend little trinkets in red. He rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder and twists the bracelet on his wrist, so that the ❤️️BG❤️️ is showing properly.

“I put hearts on yours,” Yeonjun whispers, like he’s telling a secret, “Because I like you.”

“Soobin,” Beomgyu says, “Close your eyes or don’t look up, I don’t care—”

“Huh?” Soobin says, doing the exact opposite of what Beomgyu had said. “What’s going on—”

“I’m going to kiss my boyfriend now,” Beomgyu announces. 

Yeonjun giggles as Beomgyu turns to him and tilts his head up for a succession of kisses, all short, all sweet.

When they pull back from each other, Soobin is rightfully shaking his head as he tries to finish tying the bracelet meant for Yeonjun. “Every day, I wake up. Every day, I curse the fact that I got my two best friends together. Should I just leave the room?”

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu, who winks at him, before turning to Soobin and together they say, “Yes, go ahead.”

“Do you even care about me?” Soobin complains, using his long legs to kick at Beomgyu, who then flinches away laughing and into Yeonjun’s arms. “You guys better not complain when we’re back in Seoul and I’m disgusting with Tae.”

Yeonjun raises a brow, “What do you mean? Remember when you asked for my advice when you had that crisis about Taehyun? And then remember when you asked me what places are good to go on dates? Before that, I had to watch you and Taehyun cuddle on our couch for your movie nights.”

Soobin sniffs, “It’s not the same. You guys are grosser. The grossest. Also, I literally can’t escape the two of you—”

Beomgyu laughs, “Hey, don’t worry. You won’t be complaining soon enough.”

Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu in surprise. Did he perhaps….read Yeonjun’s mind? It’s not possible. He hasn’t even talked to Soobin about his plan. Soobin tilts his head curiously, “Huh? What do you mean?”

Beomgyu only smiles, serenely, “It’s a secret. But you’ll find out soon enough. I’m actually surprised you don’t know yet.”

Soobin frowns, “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. What is it? What secret is this? Yeonjun-hyung, do you know?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “Nope. He kept this one from me too.”

“It’s not my secret to share. Also, I would be murdered in cold blood if I told you,” Beomgyu claims, and Soobin looks at him intently; Yeonjun wonders if they’re doing their weird telepathy thing again.

He’d asked about that once and all he got was, _it’s not telepathy, Hyung, I'm Sherlock Holmes-ing him_.

Yeonjun didn’t want to know.

Soobin thinks out loud, “This is Taehyun related. Who else would want to kill you except for me? What would Taehyun surprise me with? I’m not going to be complaining soon enough—” Soobin’s eyes widens and then— “Is he? Beomie, is he coming down?”

Beomgyu teases him, “I don’t know. Is he?”

Soobin presses his hands to his face, a growing smile on his face, still small like it’s still afraid it’s too good to be true, “I know it’s supposed to be a secret, but I think I’m going to call him. Who’s picking him up from the train station? Where is he going to stay? How long is he staying?”

He stands up and grabs his phone, “Yeonjun-hyung? I’ll finish your bracelet after.”

Yeonjun laughs, “What if he’s too busy to answer the phone?”

Soobin shakes his head, “He was just texting me earlier. Besides, Taehyun always answers me.”

He leaves the room and then, there were two:

“I’m happy for him,” Yeonjun says, playing with the bracelet on Beomgyu’s wrist. “He’s been talking about how sad he is that Taehyun can’t come down for a while now.”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, “I think us being together just makes it worse. It just reminds him of Taehyun. And I feel a little bad when we act a little too much, but also, I missed you.”

“It’s okay, I don’t think Soobin actually hates it as much as he says,” Yeonjun laughs. “Sometimes, he tells me, wow, you should be grateful to me. You wouldn’t be dating Beomgyu right now if it weren’t for me. He refers to himself as our Best Man.”

Beomgyu shakes his head, but he’s smiling fondly. “Yeah, he does the same thing with me. He’s right though. We were such messes. I felt like he was holding our hands through it.”

“For sure,” Yeonjun agrees, quietly.

Beomgyu hums, “And Taehyun for sure is coming down, so he won’t be all sulky about us anymore.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun says, “He still will be. He’ll just have Taehyun to be grossed out with. I’m not toning myself down for him.”

Beomgyu laughs, “My poor heart. I’ll ready myself.”

“Don’t worry,” Yeonjun says, pressing his hand to Beomgyu’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “I’ll take good care of it, sweetheart.”

Beomgyu puts his hand over Yeonjun’s and tries to joke, “I am so comforted, hyung.” But it comes out more sincere, more honest.

Yeonjun bites his lip, looks briefly at the door, and then decides it’s maybe time to ask. “Hey, you know how it’ll be our monthsary in a couple days?”

Beomgyu smiles at the mention of it, “Yes, what about it?”

“Well, I was thinking,” Yeonjun says, taking Beomgyu’s hand and cradling it in between his, “We should do something special for it. Just the two of us—”

Beomgyu asks, “Do you mean like a date? I figured we were going to do that regardless, like all the other times.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “I was thinking that maybe with the days I had left here, we could take a trip together, just the two of us? We could go to Busan, if you’re down, since it’s not too far from here. Don’t you think it would be fun to be tourists together?”

“Oh,” Beomgyu’s eyes widen, “We could take the train easily from here. I’ve been to Busan before, but I was really young when I went with my family. I can barely remember it.”

“Me too!” Yeonjun says, getting excited. “We can do a quick day trip, but I was thinking, if you want, we could stay for two days. We can even do three if we leave on Friday and come back Sunday night?”

Beomgyu smiles, “Either sounds nice, but where would we stay?”

“Well,” Yeonjun plays with his hand, eyes the red bracelet he’d weaved on Beomgyu’s wrist, and says, “I looked up prices at a random hotel and it wasn’t too bad. I have money saved up too from working all summer, so we can do that.”

“And then what would we do?”

“Anything. Everything. We could go to the beach. Shopping. Look up cool places to go. Good places to eat at.” Yeonjun pauses, “We could cuddle in bed all day.”

“Cuddle all day?”

Yeonjun slowly looks up to see a teasing smile on Beomgyu’s face. “Why not?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “We’re not going to spend money on a hotel in Busan just to cuddle all day. I’d feel bad about the money we’re spending.”

“It’d be worth it,” Yeonjun says, “How long has it been since we slept in the same bed?” Yeonjun leans close, and Beomgyu’s eyes darken as it flicks down to his mouth, “Don’t you miss me? I like it when I wake up and you’re already there and you’re holding on to my shirt with your tiny little fists—”

Beomgyu breathes, “Shut up—”

“And I’d have to pretend that you weren’t calling my name in your sleep.” Yeonjun teases, “Are you always thinking of me?”

“You know I am,” Beomgyu murmurs, averting his gaze and choosing to fiddle with the necklace Yeonjun is wearing. 

Yeonjun cups his cheek, waits until Beomgyu’s looking at him again before pressing a kiss against his lips. “Me too,” Yeonjun admits, “I’m always thinking of you.”

Beomgyu breathes deep at his words, like he’s trying to ground himself and fly at the same time, his lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

_So this is what I do to you_ , Yeonjun thinks.

Sometimes, Beomgyu makes him feel like a small god, like he exists only because of this one boy’s devotion.

Beomgyu closes his eyes and leans in this time. Yeonjun meets him halfway, kisses him slowly, savors the feel of Beomgyu’s lips. He hasn’t had many chances to kiss him properly like this: languid, ardent, and deep. Beomgyu deserves to be kissed in every single way, but Yeonjun loves it when he gets to take his time. Time lets him kiss like he’s taking Beomgyu apart, piece by piece, mouths moving against each other slowly, slow until it’s not enough for either of them.

Beomgyu makes a noise and pulls away, leaving Yeonjun to chase after him, but is stopped by Beomgyu’s hand. “Hold on,” Beomgyu laughs lightly, but Yeonjun’s not laughing.

He reaches for Beomgyu, his hands clasping around his waist and pulls him closer. “I’m holding on,” Yeonjun says, feeling petulant.

“Sorry, the position we were in was giving me a neck cramp,” Beomgyu says, sheepish.

“Sit on my lap then,” Yeonjun squeezes his waist, and then lets him go, so Beomgyu can get comfortable. Well, he tries to. Beomgyu rushes to keep his hands on his waist, “Wait—”

“What is it?” Yeonjun says.

Beomgyu pats the hands on his waist, and then when he’s sure Yeonjun isn’t going to pull away, he moves his hands to stroke up his arm. He’s averting his eyes again and Yeonjun wonders what could make him look as shy as he does now.

Beomgyu clears his throat, “I don’t know how else to say this. Like I like it when you’re gentle and respectful like this, but—

Yeonjun raises a brow, “You want me to be disrespectful?”

“No!” Beomgyu hurriedly corrects, “I just wanted to say that I like it when you take charge too. I’ll let you know if it’s not okay, but just—you know, um, you can do whatever you want.” 

“Do what I want?” Yeonjun asks, “What do you mean?”

Beomgyu flushes red at having to further explain himself, “I mean, you don’t have to be so, you know?”

Yeonjun bites his lip, trying hard not to smile, “I don’t know? I’m sorry, baby, you actually have to spell it out for me, sometimes.”

“I’m just saying you can just pull me to your lap next time, instead of asking me to do it,” Beomgyu mumbles, “I don’t know sometimes you kiss me like you’re scared I’m going to break. Don’t get me wrong, I love kissing you, but also I’ve seen you kiss other people at parties and why don’t you kiss me like that?”

Yeonjun frowns, reaching up to tilt Beomgyu’s chin up, “Because I like taking my time with you. I like being careful with you. Those people that you’ve seen me with in the past don’t even come close to you and what I feel for you. Don’t think about them, because I’m not thinking about them. Only you.”

Beomgyu pouts, “It’s not even about that. I get being careful, but there’s a difference between being careful with our relationship and being careful in kissing me. All I’m saying is I’d like it if you carry me around and manhandle me some more.”

Yeonjun swallows, unsure which one he should address first. Inevitably, his stupid brain chooses to focus on: “You want me to manhandle you?”

“I am starting to regret this conversation, ugh, just say you don’t want to and go,” Beomgyu says, letting his hand fall back to his side and tries to move back to where he was sitting before Soobin left the room. But Yeonjun doesn’t let him, not with the way he wraps his arms around Beomgyu’s waist and pulls him up and close, the way Beomgyu mentioned he’d wanted Yeonjun to do, so that he’s sitting cradled on Yeonjun’s lap.

“Hyung!” Beomgyu yelps, scrambling for purchase by clutching onto Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Beomgyu, baby, _baby_ ,” Yeonjun soothes, holding Beomgyu by his nape, “Who says I don’t want to?”

Beomgyu sulks, refusing to look at him, “I don’t know, maybe you don’t want me like that.”

How could Beomgyu think that? Yeonjun exhales, trying to release the sudden tension that’s built up in his chest. He doesn’t think he’s successful in that though. When Yeonjun speaks again, his voice is low, affected, “What? You think I don’t want you, because I don’t kiss you like all those other people? Choi Beomgyu, you are not a drunken makeout with someone I don’t know or don’t care about. Though I can surely kiss you like that if that’s what you want. I want you so much it makes me stupid. _You_ are the one who’s always pulling away first, even when I’m trying hard to set the mood. Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t want me—”

“Fuck you,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, finally turning to look at Yeonjun again. There’s fire and a challenge in his eyes. “This isn’t about me. This is about you. If you want me, prove it. Kiss me like you mean it—” 

Yeonjun doesn’t even let him finish, dives right back in, wasting no time in fulfilling his goal of kissing Beomgyu breathless. His kiss is demanding and impatient, teeth tugging at Beomgyu’s bottom lip with insistence, soothing it with his tongue only when Beomgyu whines.

God, the sound of it did things to him—he wanted to pull it out of him again and again and again. Beomgyu wasn’t helping either. He just makes the wanting worse by kissing back as enthusiastically as he can, hands sliding up from Yeonjun’s shoulders to thread in his hair.

What is space to two people who just can’t get enough? Every part of them not touching is a part of them that yearns to be closer than close. Beomgyu tugs at his hair. Yeonjun tilts Beomgyu’s head and parts his mouth to kiss him deeper, tongue dipping into his mouth. This boy and his impossible mouth, so hot and wet and good.

_This should be earned_ , Yeonjun thinks when Beomgyu’s tongue meets his, a clumsy little slide.

_This shouldn’t be given so easily to him_ , he thinks when Beomgyu inevitable pulls away, panting against his mouth, and Yeonjun still hasn’t had enough—he starts kissing a path down, passing Beomgyu’s jaw, to the wide expanse of his neck and all Beomgyu does is tilt his neck so that Yeonjun can bury his face there, mouth first.

“Three days,” Beomgyu sighs out, and it takes Yeonjun a moment to digest what he just said, reluctantly pulling away, though only far enough to look at his face. Beomgyu looks dazed, mouth swollen and slick, and Yeonjun can’t help but press a kiss to it.

When he pulls back again, he asks, “What were you saying?”

Beomgyu looks lost in thought, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing Yeonjun’s lip. Yeonjun kisses it and only then does Beomgyu respond, “I want three days in Busan with you. Three days, two nights. I’m not fully convinced you’ve proven yourself. I think you should kiss me again like this in Busan.”

Yeonjun fucking loves him. Yeonjun can’t believe the nerve of him. Asking for more when he looks like _this_ , as pink as a stupid peach.

Yeonjun hopes he keeps asking. It makes him look like a small god, and Yeonjun would do anything he asks to prove his devotion.

They do end up telling Soobin about their Busan plans.

Yeonjun feels a bit sorry towards Soobin, because it really feels like they were just ditching him to go and have fun by themselves. When he tries to apologize though, Soobin doesn’t even let him.

_I’m happy for you guys_ , Soobin says. _I’ve seen enough of you both actually,_ Soobin jokes.

That’s a blessing, if Yeonjun ever heard one.

And so, with Soobin’s blessing and the power of technology, Yeonjun easily books a room for them in the Seomyeon area in Busan. Based on recommendations online, it was the perfect location, since it was close to everything. And if they wanted to go to the beach, they could easily take the bus or the metro.

Yeonjun easily books their KTX train tickets to get there too. The only thing left to do is to finish packing.

Soobin looks on as he packs, “Hyung, it feels like you’re going all out for this monthsary.”

“Why not?” Yeonjun says without looking up from folding his clothes. He’s trying his best to copy how his mom had done it before. “We have the time and the money and the energy. Who knows when we’ll get the chance to go on a weekend trip together?”

Soobin nods, considering him, “That’s true. It will be busy for both of you guys once the school year starts. And then, after that, you graduate…”

Yeonjun pauses his packing to stare at Soobin, “Dude. Let’s not talk about post-grad just yet.”

“It’s just weird,” Soobin reasons, “Like you...a real adult...living in the real world...working a real job…”

“Soobin,” Yeonjun whines, “Shut up, seriously. I’m trying not to think about it. I have several months where I can think about it. But not right now.”

Soobin laughs, putting his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I definitely don’t envy you. Like uni work sucks, but it’s predictable at least. Wherever your real job ends up being at though, I hope it’s close to our university. I don’t want to find another roommate.”

Yeonjun raises a brow, “Wouldn’t Beomgyu just move in?”

“Oh,” Soobin says, like the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “That’s true. I just assumed that if you were ever to move out, it would either be because your work is too far or the two of you would move in together.”

Yeonjun blinks. He hasn’t thought that far ahead. He didn’t allow himself to, given how early it was in their relationship. And while it’s still too early, the thought of moving in together someday doesn’t inspire fear either. It’s just something to look forward to, if Beomgyu wanted the same thing.

“We haven’t talked about stuff like that. But don’t worry,” Yeonjun gives him a teasing smile, “You’ll definitely be the first to know if we do. You’ll have enough time to find a new roommate.”

Soobin sighs, “That’s so much effort. I’ll probably just live on Taehyun’s and Kai’s couch.”

It makes Yeonjun laugh, “I mean, you are already there most of the time. It’ll save you what? The five minutes it takes to walk over there?”

“A dream,” Soobin says, and then he claps his hands, suddenly remembering something, “Also, we need to get whatever dining table they have. I don’t want to eat on the floor with you and Beomgyu anymore. It’s sad that first years are living better than us. Hyung, you’re about to graduate and you’re still eating on the floor.”

Yeonjun sniffs, “I don’t do it by choice. I can’t let Beomgyu eat on the floor by himself. That’s heartless. He’d look so small eating on the floor.”

Soobin sighs, “I almost forget how much of a feral human being he is when he looks small like that. And then he speaks and I remember.”

Yeonjun laughs, “You always say that, but you’re the first person to say sorry when the two of you get in a fight. Anybody else you’d be stubborn about it, but not with Beomgyu.”

Soobin shrugs, “What can I do? Beomgyu is unfortunately important to me and he has the saddest sad face in the world. Also, I never feel like I’m giving in when I say sorry anyway. Beomgyu is too considerate. If he ever hurt me and I said so, he would take my words seriously and apologize sincerely first.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun agrees, “He’s the type of person who’d take care of you in his own way.”

“A good person, our best friend,” Soobin says. And then seriously, he says, “We’ve already talked about this before, and clearly, Hyunwoo-hyung has talked about it with you too—”

“God,” Yeonjun says, “I already know—”

“Let me finish,” Soobin sighs, “I wasn’t going to rehash it. I love him and I trust you with him. I told Beomgyu this before, that he couldn’t have fallen for a better person than you.” 

Yeonjun scratches his neck, “Thanks, dude.”

“Thanks, dude,” Soobin mimics, and Yeonjun immediately glares at him.

Soobin laughs, “Relax, just—as the person who arguably knows you two the best, I just wanted to say that, I hope you let him take care of you too. I feel like you’re so set sometimes in being the hyung figure in our lives and sometimes when you’re struggling, you’re the type that kind of just tries his best to stay strong without saying anything.”

“You know I’m always here for you,” Soobin says, “but if you’re hesitating to share with me, at least share it with him. You don’t always have to be so put together.”

“Yeah…” Yeonjun says, looking away and beginning to go back to folding his clothes. “I know, I’m working on it.”

Soobin walks over to him and gives him a hug, which is kind of awkward considering Yeonjun’s sitting on the floor and Soobin does it while standing, but it’s a sweet gesture nevertheless.

Their bro moment is broken up by loud banging on his front door. They both turn towards the sound, and Soobin frowns, as he walks over to answer it.

Yeonjun stands up too to see who could be at the door.

It’s Beomgyu.

“Soobin!” Beomgyu greets with a hug, with so much brightness it’s like he hasn’t seen Soobin in person in months. He spots Yeonjun over Soobin’s shoulder and extends a hand to him, “Yeonjun-hyung, come here, group hug!”

Yeonjun laughs, immediately coming over to join them, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around him. “Guys, I’m so happy.”

Soobin wheezes from where he’s being squeezed in between them, “I’m going to pass out if you guys keep this up.”

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu, who nods at him, and both of them squeeze tighter and Soobin shrieks, pushing them both away with a strength that surprises them both.

Yeonjun covers his mouth, “Hey, Soobin. Have you been working out?”

Beomgyu raises his brow, “He for sure hasn’t been. We hang out all the time.”

“It’s called survival instincts,” Soobin huffs, “Anyway, what happened to you?”

Beomgyu brightens again, clapping his hands, “I just got off the phone with Antenna. They told me I got an internship position if I want it.”

Soobin and Yeonjun both gasp, with Soobin pulling Beomgyu to a hug again, “Oh my god, congrats! So proud of you.”

Once Beomgyu pulls away from Soobin, he immediately goes to Yeonjun, who opens his arms for him. Beomgyu wraps his arms over his shoulder and Yeonjun does the same with his waist, pulling him off the floor, “Congrats, baby.” Yeonjun smooches his cheek as he puts him back down, “I knew you would get it. What did I tell you?”

Beomgyu laughs, “How could I not be worried? I’m sure tons of people applied.”

“I think we should celebrate,” Soobin says, “Like I know we were going to have one last dinner anyway, before you guys leave tomorrow, but now we should really go all out.”

To Beomgyu, he says, “Now that you’re going to be a big shot at Antenna you need to treat us.”

Beomgyu twists from Yeonjun’s hold, but keeps his arm around his shoulders, “I haven’t even accepted yet. Also, you’re so funny. You act like I’m going to get paid a lot with this job.”

“Ah,” Soobin says, “Are you gonna wait to hear from the other companies? This one isn’t your first choice, right?”

Yeonjun ruffles Beomgyu’s hair, “Beomgyu’s waiting for Bighit Entertainment. Also, shouldn’t it be us treating Beomgyu?”

“Yeah, they’re the dream,” Beomgyu sighs, “But I followed up with them yesterday and they said they’re close to finalizing their list.”

Soobin crosses his arms, turning to Yeonjun, “I guess we can treat Beomgyu. What do we have to lose? A couple thousand won? He eats like a bird. I’m down to split if you are.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, and Yeonjun chuckles as he extends a hand to Soobin, the two of them shaking it on it. “Call.”

They end up at Gopchang Alley, which Soobin and Beomgyu claims is a famous food alley in Daegu.

Yeonjun could clearly see the truth in that on their way to the restaurant of Beomgyu’s choice. There’s tons of people here even on a Thursday night, roaming, searching and trying to decide which gopchang restaurant they want to eat at.

Yeonjun tugs at Beomgyu’s hand and asks, “Is the one we’re going to the best one?”

Beomgyu smiles and says, “It’s Appa’s favourite. Of course, it’s the best one.”

Considering how good the steak Hyunbin cooked for him for their dinner, Yeonjun is inclined to agree.

Soobin enters the restaurant first, signaling for a table of three, and the waiter immediately sits them at a corner table, close to the windows.

Soobin looks at Beomgyu, “Are we going to do the usual plus two?”

Yeonjun rests his elbow on the table and his chin on the palm of his hand, “What’s the usual and what does the plus two mean?”

Beomgyu points at the menu that’s hanging up on the wall, “The usual is our combo of half and half orders of gopchang and makchang, and then we get it with kimchi jjigae on the side and rice. And because we know how you eat, we’re thinking of getting two extra orders of either gopchang or makchang depending on what you want.”

"Oooh," Yeonjun says, leaning back against his seat, "I don't have a preference. Let's just get one of each. Can you also order me coke?"

Soobin aims a finger gun at him, "Hyung, I already knew."

Beomgyu laughs, "Alright, Soobin will order."

Yeonjun claps, "I'm glad that's easily settled."

"It helps that we're not picky eaters, hyung." Soobin says, eyeing Beomgyu. "And we're at a tried and true restaurant. Beomgyu's dad usually takes us here. Calls them boys night out."

Beomgyu snorts, "He started doing it when he realized I wanted to go to Seoul for university. Appa is so sentimental."

"That's because you're the baby of the family," Yeonjun says, fondly pinching Beomgyu’s cute little button nose. "You're twenty years old and he still calls you Cookey. You are never going to grow up in his eyes."

Soobin hums, "Our parents were so relieved we were going to the same university. I don't know who was more relieved actually. I think maybe my mom was. She was like, thank god, Beomgyu is going to be there. She said she kept having these dreams about me being scammed. Like Beomgyu's any better."

Beomgyu sticks his tongue out, "Your mom thinks I'm smarter than you. Ha!"

Yeonjun laughs, "It's just nice that you guys have each other. I can't imagine being so far away from home. I could always just go home on the weekends if I really missed my parents."

Yeonjun, for all his past envy of their relationship, says that genuinely.

Beomgyu eyes Soobin, "I guess it is nice to have Soobin."

"I already know that Beomgyu is grateful for my presence," Soobin smiles, serenely. "No need to say anything more, Beomie. Imagine if I went to a different university."

"Hm," Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "I would have been fine."

Soobin just shrugs, unaffected. "I know my Beomie would miss me. It's okay."

Beomgyu opens his mouth to respond but thankfully, the first order of gopchang arrives and their server hovers their hand over the grill to make sure it's hot enough before throwing the raw meat onto it.

It sizzles, smoke rising into the air, and their server ensures its spread evenly before placing the tongs to the side and leaving it to cook.

Yeonjun places the tongs on Beomgyu's side, "Here you go, grill master."

"I thought I was the one being treated here," Beomgyu complains, but takes the tongs in his hand, "Why am I cooking for the both of you?"

Soobin leans back in his seat too, "Because you don't want to eat burnt meat?"

At the same time, Yeonjun creates a heart with his hands and says, "Because you love us?"

"Unfortunately, you're both right," Beomgyu sighs.

Yeonjun lets him pretend to sulk. Beomgyu loves his dramatics and it doesn't cost him anything to entertain that. Besides, it's cute to see him pout. He drapes an arm over his shoulder, "You're the best, Beomgyu."

"Ugh, hyung," Soobin rubs a hand down his face, "Don't. His ego is already big."

"I'm his boyfriend, Soobin," Yeonjun says, "It's my job to compliment him."

Beomgyu side-eyes him, "You adore me. Shut up."

Soobin looks between them, judgement so evident in his gaze, "Personally, I think _I_ should be rewarded for spending so much time with you both for the past two weeks."

Soobin is so dramatic. He is acting like this when he's made Yeonjun into a fourth-wheel with the numerous times that he's brought over Taehyun and Kai for movie nights. "Again, I am reminding you that you helped get us together. You reap what you sow."

Beomgyu adds on, "Also, isn't it enough that Taehyun is coming down to see you and we're leaving for Busan tomorrow?"

"You don't understand how gross the two of you are together. Even when you're just standing there...it's like you're emitting cartoon hearts all over. You guys make me feel single."

"Dude," Yeonjun interjects, "Trust me when I say we toned it down for you. And waited until you were gone to do anything...most of the time."

Beside him, Beomgyu mutters under his breath, "Or asleep." Yeonjun elbows him for that.

"Well," Soobin sniffs, "I'm so sorry you had to hold back. You don't need to anymore starting tomorrow."

Beomgyu grins, "Don't worry. You'll see more of it once we're back in school."

"Can't wait," Soobin says sarcastically, and then drops the attitude at the thought of school. "Ugh, I don't want to go back. Like I do, because we're all together there. I miss Taehyun. I miss Kai.”

“I miss Kai too,” Beomgyu sighs, “We talk sometimes, because I like hearing what he thinks about some of the songs I’ve written. But it’s not enough.”

“Better than me. I haven’t even spoken to him outside of our group chat. Taehyun and I kept inviting him to come with us whenever we planned to hang out, but he always said he was busy.” Soobin complains.

Beomgyu purses his mouth, “Well...just think about him, Soobin. He’s being nice. He probably didn’t want to intrude on your dates.”

“It’s not intruding if he’s invited,” Soobin sighs. “Anyway, aside from that, I’m scared about school. I don’t even want to contemplate the amount of work that I’m going to have. I’m not thinking about it.”

"You'll get through it," Yeonjun assures him. "And if you need help, you have us. And you'll have people within your department to support you. Just remember to ask for help."

"Your age is showing, hyung," Soobin says, and Yeonjun swats at him. “I’m being supportive and you’re acting like this—”

Beomgyu laughs, "Am I the only one excited? It's probably the internship high, but I am super excited to go back, I'm ready to be busy. Also, I really miss that pho place we eat at."

"Oh, I went there a couple weeks ago," Yeonjun says.

"I remember," Beomgyu says, "You sent a picture. I was so jealous and all you did was keep sending photos of you happily eating it."

Yeonjun feels offended, "You said I looked cute, so I sent you more."

Beomgyu smiles at him, "Yeah, they were super cute. I'm just teasing."

The server interrupts them again to place the rest of their orders on the table, along with several side dishes and rice.

Yeonjun's mouth waters. The minute the server disappears, he takes his spoon and immediately takes a spoonful of the kimchi jjigae. It tastes perfect, alongside with the cool evening air and the smell of the meat cooking.

Soobin asks, "So, did you guys figure out what you're going to do in Busan already?"

Beomgyu hums in thought, "I think I'm going to leave it up to, hyung. I feel like he's already created a whole itinerary in his notes app."

Yeonjun pauses mid-bite, "Hey. How did you know that?"

"You're just that predictable," Beomgyu chuckles. "Also, I saw you adding stuff to it earlier.”

Yeonjun would pout, but he’s not even remotely upset at the fact that his boyfriend knows him so well. Being completely bare to someone used to inspire fear and apprehension, but here’s what Yeonjun has learned. When someone loves you, their gaze shines upon you like warm light.

There’s nothing harsh or judging about a light like that. All it does is turn you beautiful, golden hour at all times. All you are is seen.

"Well, the itinerary is a secret." Yeonjun finally says. "Soobin, please follow our lovestagram and you'll be updated."

Soobin smiles at him, "I have it blocked actually."

"Hyung," Beomgyu says, grabbing his hand, "Don't worry, I blocked him on it too. Even if he wanted to see, he wouldn't be able to. He doesn't deserve the rights to seeing our beautiful relationship when he acts like this."

"I literally see you guys every day. I'm signed onto a lease with Yeonjun-hyung for the next year. I’ll see enough."

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "Just eat. It's ready."

Yeonjun doesn't need to be told twice. He immediately grabs a couple pieces to put on his place and carefully blows on a piece, lest he burns his tongue. He bites on it as delicately as his impatience lets him; it sits hot on his tongue but the flavor is so buttery and good he just wants to rush through chewing it.

He breathes, turning to Beomgyu, "Dude, this is good."

"Of course, it's good," Beomgyu grins, "I cooked it."

Soobin laughs, covering his mouth with his hand and looks at Yeonjun, "You'd think he was as good as Gordon Ramsay."

“I’m unbeatable when it comes to grilling meat,” Beomgyu snorts, "All other areas? I’m improving. Remember when we took that couples' cooking class together, Soobin?"

Yeonjun who was in the middle of sipping soup pauses, "You guys took a couples cooking class?"

"Yeah," Beomgyu says, putting a hand on his thigh. He squeezes it, just before saying, "I'm sorry to say this hyung, but you were not my first fake boyfriend."

Soobin chokes on his food, coughing and reaching for his water. After he clears his throat, he says, "That doesn't even count. We did it for the discount. Also, we did it because we felt bad you were always cooking whenever we didn't want to order food. It was a terrible experience though."

Yeonjun surprises himself too when he says, "It's okay, I don't care if you guys fake dated too." Then he realizes what they said, "You guys did it for me?"

"Good," Beomgyu says, pleased, patting his knee. Yeonjun places his hand on top of his. "We dumped each other ASAP. Worst fake boyfriend in the world. Also, the worst cooking class ever. We were forced to do couple things. I'm like, I thought we were here to cook?"

"We had to feed each other and back hug and all of that gross stuff," Soobin shivers, "I had to tell Beomgyu he was beautiful. We couldn't look at each other in the eye without wanting to throw up."

Yeonjun laughs, going back to eating. "I actually want to take a cooking class. It would be fun to learn how to cook more complicated dishes. We should all do one, bring Kai and Taehyun."

Soobin snorts, "I don't know if it's going to be fun, but it'll be funny for sure. Kai doesn't know how to cook. Taehyun doesn't either but he's thankfully smart. They always order take out like us too."

Yeonjun busies himself with making a wrap, "Yeah, add that to the list of things we have to do when we're all together again."

"Like the museum, right?" Beomgyu makes a wrap for himself too beside him, "We should actually do more stuff like that. I like partying but also, it will definitely be nice to explore Seoul more. Let's go bike riding by the Han river. Branch out from the usual restaurants we go to. There's so much to do."

To Soobin, Beomgyu complains, "Take Taehyun on better dates."

"Huh?" Soobin raises a brow, "What? Did he say something?"

"No," Beomgyu shakes his head, "But I was asking him for date ideas and all his suggestions were lame."

Yeonjun laughs at the jab, while Soobin glares at both of them, "Funny you should say that, I get my date ideas from Yeonjun-hyung."

The smile on Yeonjun's face drops. Soobin is _so_ foul.

Beomgyu sniffs, "Maybe it's all about the execution. Our dates are fun. Taehyun said you guys usually go to cafes and grab ice cream after."

"We always get ice cream because that's our thing," Soobin huffs, "Why am I explaining myself to you guys? If Taehyun's not complaining and is happy, I really don't care."

"Yeah, that's really all that matters," Yeonjun agrees, wrapping an arm Beomgyu's shoulder. "Look at Beomgyu. He's very happy. A satisfied customer."

Beomgyu looks at him, mouth full of food and disdain. When he swallows, he says, "Please never call me a customer again."

Yeonjun laughs, moving to feed him a bite of gopchang. "Alright, I won't, I won't."

Beomgyu opens his mouth and lets himself be fed.

"Wow," Soobin comments with interest, "Never seen Beomgyu appeased so easily. If it was me, he would have bit my finger already. The privilege..."

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu, at his reddening ears, and brushes a strand of hair, "Beomgyu is so sweet to his hyung these days."

"I'm technically hyung too," Soobin grumbles.

Beomgyu only smiles angelically. He does not give a fuck. Instead, he puts together another wrap and keeps eating.

This is a conversation that Yeonjun has heard brought up a couple times and no matter what, Soobin has never won it. They move like a sitcom and the punch line has never changed.

Soobin sniffs, "Anyway, changing the topic. Now that your time in Daegu is coming to an end, I'm curious what has been your favorite part. And you're not allowed to say the time I spent with you guys."

Yeonjun raises a brow, "I wasn't going to say that."

"Sure," Soobin says, not caring.

Yeonjun hums, chews on his lip, and tries to think about the past couple of days. They've done so much—from hiking, to meeting Beomgyu's parents, strawberry picking, wine tasting, and everything else in between.

Though, there is one thing that stands out to him the most.

Yeonjun says, "I think my favorite part was the museum. I liked hiking too, because the view was amazing and the naengmyeon we had afterwards was so rewarding. But the museum had such cool exhibits."

Yeonjun loved it for other reasons too. Reasons he refuses to discuss with Soobin.

Beomgyu laughs, "The one place I wanted to go to regardless if anybody would like it or not. I'm glad that was your favorite. Though, if I have to choose, I liked having you meet my parents the most."

"Oh," Yeonjun says, suddenly remembering that whole experience and how his heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his throat. "I think I was too nervous the whole time. But yeah, that was nice. I'm glad I got to meet them too."

Beomgyu smiles at him sweetly for that, before turning to Soobin, "What about you, Soob?"

Soobin grins, "Personally, every moment I spent with both of you was good and is therefore my favorite."

Yeonjun throws a balled up napkin in his direction, "You're such a bastard!"

"It takes one to know one," Soobin blows him a kiss.

Beomgyu shakes his head at both of them. This always happens, between the three of them, there will always be two bickering and the other shaking their head.

It’s just the order of things that Yeonjun hopes will never change.

They end up ordering more food because Yeonjun and Soobin were still hungry. Beomgyu happily cooks it for them. They cheer with their glasses of coke, and eventually, they manage to clear everything out.

At the end of their dinner, they make Soobin pay, while the two of them wait outside.

Beomgyu wraps his arms around his waist for a hug and tilts his chin up to look at him, "I'm so full, hyung."

"You better be," Yeonjun jokes, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. "We're paying a lot for our meal."

"That's because you guys ordered more. I mostly cooked for you guys," Beomgyu pouts, and Yeonjun immediately leans down to kiss it away.

"I know. I'm just teasing." Yeonjun pulls back, "Are you excited for tomorrow?"

Beomgyu nods, giddy, "Yep. And I heard it wasn't going to be super hot, so I'm happy about that too. Perfect weather for our monthsary."

"That's so good to hear." Yeonjun says, "Are you done packing? If not, can you make sure to bring sunscreen? I only have one for my face."

"Sure, I'll pack it in," Beomgyu says. "Oh, are we going to the beach?"

Yeonjun kisses his cute nose, "Maybe. Make sure to pack clothes for swimming too."

"So definitely the beach then," Beomgyu nods. "I was thinking of bringing my old film camera or even stopping by somewhere to buy a disposable camera. You know how they had it back in the day? You probably know since you're so old."

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at him, "You're so cheeky. I was only born two years earlier than you. Also, if I'm so old, why are you dating me?"

"Because," Beomgyu says simply.

"Because?" Yeonjun pushes, leaning down to kiss his nose again.

Beomgyu giggles, "Because, I don't know, hyung."

"You're so silly," Yeonjun lets him live, choosing instead to rest his chin on top of his head and sways them side by side. "Just say it's because you like me a lot. You don't even care that you're dating someone so old."

"Yes, yes," Beomgyu says, and then quietly adds, "Like you so much, hyung."

_Tell me you love me instead_ , Yeonjun wants to say.

It’s been so goddamn long since Yeonjun’s heard it and the need to hear it grows wild within him like unruly weed.

The last time Beomgyu had said it was months ago, back when they first started dating. If Yeonjun remembers correctly, it was on their first official date at an amusement park. Beomgyu was wearing this cute angel headband they had bought at the beginning of their date and was waiting on a bench for Yeonjun to get back from buying drinks.

But Yeonjun had passed by a stall selling churros, which he knew Beomgyu loved, and bought that too, along with their drinks.

Beomgyu was so delighted when he saw what Yeonjun got him that the first thing he said was, “Oh, you’re the best. I love you, hyung.”

Yeonjun didn’t know what to say in response then, except for, “You’re welcome.”

He’s trying to be better at being fair to himself, but he can’t help but think that he should have appreciated it more. _It had sounded so sweet_ , Yeonjun thinks, _like cotton candy_.

He feels so impatient. He wants to hear it so goddamn bad that he's tempted to just confess his own feelings now.

He doesn't, though, because he has a plan.

And this plan is too great to be ruined by his own impatience. He wants his first I love you to be special in every way to the person that matters the most.

He’ll do it on their fourth monthsary in Busan, under the beautiful starry night sky.

And for that, Yeonjun will wait.

After all, what's two more days to live through for a moment so priceless?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple things i wanted to note: 
> 
> first, all of the installations and artworks in the museum are real. they're just from different museums and i've put them together to make my own museum.
> 
>   1. the first floor:  
> 
>     1. Pénétrable by Jesús Rafael Soto - Los Angeles County Museum of Art (i kind of put my own spin to this artwork. it doesn't really say, the viewer is also the artist nor does it say [you]. that's just my own interpretation of the art)
>     2. Apple by Gustav and Ulla Kraits - Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco
>     3. Spun Chair by Thomas Heatherwick - Hammer Museum
>   2. the second floor  
> 
>     1. America by Maurizio Catellan - Guggenheim in New York (this is the golden toilet bowl)
>     2. Blue Red by Kelly Esworth - The Broad in Los Angeles
>     3. Under the Table by Robert Therrien - The Broad in Los Angeles
>     4. The Souls of Millions of Light Years Away by Yayoi Kusama - The Infinity Room at The Broad in Los Angeles
>   3. third floor - Soundtracks Exhibition (all of them are the San Francisco MOMA)  
> 
>     1. clinamen by Céleste Boursier-Mougenot (this is the one with the ceramic bowls floating in a pool)
>     2. Cloud by Christina Kubisch (this is that cloud made by red electric wires)
>     3. The Visitors by Ragnar Kjartansson (that scene with the musicians. the song lyrics are true to the work. i put my own interpretation of what it means too. highly encourage you to look it up) 
> 

> 
> second, the strawberry spoon cake is an actual recipe i have tried out in the past. it's very simple and beginner friendly i think. 
> 
> third, i hope you enjoyed it! please let me know what your thoughts are, leave a kudos or a comment. if you can't leave another kudos, feel free to comment second kudos in the comment haha.


	3. daylight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beomgyu’s gaze is always soft when it’s on him, “If it makes you this happy, how could I say no?” 
> 
> Yeonjun turns his face and presses a kiss to Beomgyu’s hand that cradles him. A kiss in lieu of three words. 
> 
> Beomgyu closes his eyes and leans in to give him a proper kiss. He lingers and against his mouth says, “Happy four months. Let’s have a good day today, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **a couple of notes:**  
>  1\. when i first thought about posting this fic, i had this thought that i wanted to give readers the same experience of waiting that beomgyu feels in this fic. i wanted you to wait for yeonjun's i love you too. so if you have been following along with each posting, i'm glad. if not that's okay too.  
> 2\. in addition, when i thought of the posting date, i also wanted to give a temporal experience to the readers. the first half of this duology (do flightless birds dream of flying too?) was posted on 9/3/2020 and today, 1/3/2021 will be the four month anniversary of me posting it. interesting enough, my beomjun got together four months ago too and you'll be reading them celebrating their four month anniversary too. isn't that sweet?  
> 3\. cw: mentions/discussions of sex, though there is no actual sexual content, implied or explicit.
> 
> without further ado, here is the last chapter:

It’s the beginning of the end, and it starts when Soobin drops them off at the train station. 

Before going, Yeonjun says his goodbyes and thanks to Soobin’s family. He’s especially grateful to Sooyoung for taking care of him and letting him stay at her home all this time. She welcomes it all with a hug, tells him, _you’re very welcome, come back any time._

There’s something odd about time. How living through so many beginnings and endings make one feel like they’re living on a cassette tape. Wind, unwind, wind. Two journeys—same footsteps and roads, forwards and backwards.

Yeonjun can’t help but think about that as the three of them drive the same route back to the train station. 

Didn’t Yeonjun just arrive at Daegu? Was that not just yesterday? 

Didn’t he just have dinner with Beomgyu’s parents? Was the hike at Apsan Park truly more than a week ago? 

At the same time, he feels a certain distance from those events, like they happened to a distant version of the person sitting in this car today. 

There’s something about time. The way it ebbs back and forth like this against his feet, like the sea meeting and leaving the shore. 

He glances away from his window and briefly glances at Beomgyu, who he sees is furiously typing on his phone. 

Yeonjun chuckles and pull up his own phone to text him: _hey_ ❤️

From behind him, he hears Beomgyu snort, but in a couple seconds, a text comes through: _good morning, hyung_ 🥰 🥰 🥰 _why are you texting me?_

Yeonjun responds: _because_ 😚 😚 😚 _where is my good morning kiss?_

😘 💨 💋💋💋 is the message he gets back. He bites his lip, trying hard not to make a sound, but it’s hard. What is he supposed to do when his boyfriend is so fucking cute? 

He’s about to send a block of kiss emojis back, when he gets another text from Beomgyu: 😏 

A picture is worth a thousand words. The same is true for emojis, though Beomgyu follows his up with another text: _you are so easy_

Yeonjun immediately backspaces on all the kiss emojis and types: 😐

The worst boyfriend in the world. He is so annoying and infuriating and thinks he’s so cute—

Beomgyu doesn’t even perform any self-reflection. Just sends: 😂 😂 😂

It’s barely ten in the morning and already he is causing problems on purpose. Yeonjun is about to put his phone away when Beomgyu sends another message: _wanna help me fool soobin when we get to the train station?_

How could Yeonjun say no? Fooling Soobin is in the top ten of Yeonjun’s favorite activities.

🤨 _what are you planning?_ He sends. 

Yeonjun is so tempted to look behind him. He’s sure Beomgyu is grinning like a devil as he sends: _a taehyun surprise_ 🥳 🥳

Yeonjun fights to keep his expression neutral and closes his phone instead, for fear that Soobin accidentally glances over. He looks back behind him and finds that Beomgyu is already looking at him. 

_‘Really?’_ He mouths and Beomgyu nods, bringing his finger to his lips. 

It catches Soobin's eyes though, "What are you guys whispering about?" 

Yeonjun startles and turns back into his seat, "It's nothing, just making sure that Beomgyu brought everything he needed to bring." 

"Then why are you whispering?" Soobin laughs. 

Beomgyu easily covers for him when he hesitates, "Because we didn't want you to be distracted when you're driving on the road." 

Soobin looks at him through the rearview mirror, "Dude. Just because you're the best driver out of the three of us, doesn't mean I'm that terrible. I can multi-task." 

"Sure," Beomgyu says, "Whatever you say." 

Soobin _seems_ like a decent enough driver. Or the streets are just fortunately not as busy as they could have been. Yeonjun is unsure which one it is. Either way, he does his job and gets them to the train station in one piece. Yeonjun would be kind enough to give him five stars on Uber. 

Once they're parked, Yeonjun gets out of the car and gets his suitcase from the trunk. Beomgyu has it easy, only bringing a small duffel bag with him. Soobin lingers by the car and waves at them, "Alright, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

Beomgyu frowns at him, "You're not even going to walk us up to the entrance? It’s like you want us gone.” 

"Why should I?" Soobin scratches his head, "Am I your mother? I'm seeing you in three days, when I pick you up. I'm sure you guys can make it in safely.” Soobin raises a brow and emphasizes each word, “With each other. Like adults." 

Beomgyu elbows Yeonjun subtly as he whines at Soobin, "Just at least walk us up to the actual front of the station." 

Yeonjun grabs Beomgyu’s elbow to stop him from hurting him further. He’s sharper than he looks. 

Yeonjun clears his throat and makes the saddest face he can muster, "We're gonna get hurt if you don't do it." 

Soobin sighs, putting his hands on his hips, "Fine. It's like you want me to come to Busan with you." 

"You wish you were coming," Beomgyu says grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the direction of the train entrance. 

Yeonjun laughs, following them. 

They walk up a flight of stairs and once they turn the corner to where the doors of the station are, they have Soobin right where he needs to be—in front of Kang Taehyun. 

Taehyun stands by the station doors, with his icy blond hair and expression made of cold stone. When he notices their presence, he melts completely. He looks like summer in front of Soobin. 

Soobin stops in his tracks, "Taehyunnie, I thought you weren't going to get in until tomorrow?" 

"Surprise?" Taehyun cheers, and Yeonjun and Beomgyu both place a hand on Soobin’s back and push him towards Taehyun. 

Soobin stumbles and Taehyun meets him halfway with a hug. "Hyung, why aren't you saying anything?" Taehyun asks.

Yeonjun butts in, determined to embarrass Soobin for once, "Ah, he's speechless now, but you should have heard him the past couple of days. _I wish Taehyun were here. Taehyun would like this. Taehyun would laugh at this. I'm gonna take Taehyun here._ " 

"Shut up," Soobin says, finally straightening up but he remains tangled around Taehyun. Taehyun doesn’t seem like he has any plans of letting him go either. 

Taehyun only laughs, the sound of it bright and tinkling, "I already know Soobin-hyung can't live without me. This isn't surprising." 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "Soobin, let him go for a sec. I want to hug my friend." 

Beomgyu barely waits for Taehyun to be released before he pounces on him with a tight hug, "Taehyunnie, it's so good to see you." 

Taehyun squeezes him back in a tighter hug, lifting him off the ground, “Beomgyu-hyung! Thanks for getting him here.” 

“Of course,” Beomgyu says, pulling away. 

Taehyun turns and makes eye contact with Yeonjun. Taehyun nods at him, "Yeonjun-hyung." 

“Taehyun,” Yeonjun greets with a chuckle. “No hug for me?” 

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Sure, you can have a hug too.” 

Yeonjun welcomes him with open arms, while Soobin and Beomgyu look on amused. 

It’s not that him and Taehyun don’t get along. It’s just that Taehyun is fun to annoy, and Taehyun can’t quite avoid him because he’s a non-negotiable part of Soobin-and-Beomgyu. Yeonjun thoroughly enjoys their dynamic. 

"It's sad you guys are leaving today," Taehyun says, looking at their luggage. "We should've gotten a meal together at least." 

"Yeah, it's too bad," Beomgyu says, a little blue coloring his voice, "But we’ll see each other soon. And I’m sure you’re in good hands.” 

Taehyun reaches for Soobin's arm again and Yeonjun warms at the way Soobin lights up when Taehyun does that. He looks so happy. They both do. 

Soobin smiles down at Taehyun, "Don't worry, Tae. We're better off without them." 

"We’re better off without you too," Beomgyu sticks his tongue out, "We're going in." 

"I'll see you guys soon," Yeonjun says, walking towards the door, "Don't do anything we wouldn't do." 

When Yeonjun looks back at them, it doesn’t even look like they heard him. They’re busy wrapped up in their world of two. 

Beomgyu tugs on his hand, pulling Yeonjun back to his orbit. 

They walk into the station and immediately stand off to the side, so that Yeonjun can pull out the tickets that he bought online. He hands Beomgyu his and together they walk towards the gates, scanning their tickets with the barcode reader. The machine emits a green light and they both walk through with zero problems. 

They’re early enough that when they get to their train, it’s still pretty empty. 

Yeonjun puts his suitcase and Beomgyu's duffel bag in the compartment above their seats. "Did you want the window seat?" He asks. 

Beomgyu nods, "Yes, if you don't mind." 

"You can have it. I think I'm going to sleep on the way there anyway." Yeonjun says, gesturing for him to go ahead and take a seat. 

Beomgyu gets himself settled by the window seat and fiddles with the little pocket of the seat in front of him. Yeonjun does the same, tucking his water bottle and airpods in it. 

Yeonjun sighs as he leans back into his seat. All that’s left is for the train to run and soon enough, they can get their weekend started. 

"You know," Yeonjun says, turning to Beomgyu, "This is my first time going on a trip with a boyfriend." 

Beomgyu angles his body towards him and briefly studies him, “Is that so? It’s also my first time.” 

Yeonjun already knew that but the mention of it has him leaning close, drawn in by fondness, "Oh yeah? It'll be fun sharing this first together then." 

"Good," Beomgyu says with a smile, closing his eyes as he lays his palm up on the arm rest between them. "I’m glad I get to have one of your firsts too.” 

_Oh, if you only knew, Choi Beomgyu_ , Yeonjun thinks as he places his hand on Beomgyu's open palm. _You get to have a lot of my firsts_ , Yeonjun wants to say. 

Yeonjun has never met any of his partners’ parents before Beomgyu. Yeonjun has never travelled across the country before Beomgyu. Yeonjun has never loved anyone the way he loves Beomgyu. 

Yeonjun wants to correct him, but what he ends up saying is this: "I think that everything we do together for the first time is special anyway. Because it's my first time doing it with you." 

Beomgyu opens one eye to take a peek at him. 

"What?" Yeonjun grins, "It's true." 

"You're so cheesy. You don’t need to drop these lines on me. We're dating already." Beomgyu closes his eyes again, but he looks pleased. 

Yeonjun takes their clasped hands and brings it to his lips, kissing the back of Beomgyu's hand. "What? I can't say cheesy things to you because we're dating? Who told you that?" 

"I'm just saying." Beomgyu mumbles, "I'm yours already." 

There's a hundred ways to say I love you and Beomgyu is inventing many more. He always calls out Yeonjun for being cheesy, but he drops these lines like it's nothing, like it doesn't make Yeonjun melt inside and make him forget whatever conversation they were having previously. 

Yeonjun aims to be a mirror in the face of all this beam-like adulation. 

"Beomgyu, look at me," Yeonjun asks and once he has Beomgyu’s attention, he says, "I'm yours too." 

Something flickers in Beomgyu's eyes. He says nothing for a straight moment, and then—then he breathes out, pulls his hand away from Yeonjun's grip to cup Yeonjun's cheek. 

"My hyung," he whispers, and Yeonjun places his hand on Beomgyu's thigh for leverage as he leans over him. 

Yeonjun kisses him with slow intent, and forgets himself and where they are for the sweet taste of Beomgyu’s mouth. Beomgyu forgets himself too, kissing him back, drawing him in, winding his arms around his neck. It's easy to get lost in each other and they only remember to stop when they hear people coming from one side of the train and closer to theirs. Yeonjun pulls away—or he tries to, but Beomgyu won't stop pressing small tiny kisses to his mouth and Yeonjun has to press at his sides, tickling him to get him to stop. 

Beomgyu jolts, further slipping down his seat, and the slide brings Yeonjun's hand further up his thigh. 

"Hyung!" Beomgyu squeaks, "You know I'm ticklish." 

Yeonjun laughs, squeezing his thigh, "You wouldn't stop. We can continue this when we get to our hotel in Busan, okay?" 

Beomgyu flushes, looks down instead at Yeonjun's hand and says, "Okay." 

Talks of Busan reminds Yeonjun of all he has planned for their monthsary date, and the thought of them unfolding one by one has him unable to stay still. 

He can’t help but hint at Beomgyu either, “I have so many things planned and I have gifts prepared. It’s a surprise, but I’m saying something now so you can anticipate it.” 

"Huh?" Beomgyu looks up from his lap and stares, "You have something specific planned?" 

Yeonjun pats his leg, feeling smug, "Yup. It's gonna be our best monthsary date yet. Just wait and see." 

Beomgyu opens his mouth to ask, but Yeonjun simply presses a finger to his mouth, shaking his head, "Nope, this is a secret. You are not getting hints from me." 

And before Beomgyu can say anything further, their conversation is cut off by the PA system in the train announcing that they will finally be departing for Busan. Yeonjun relaxes in his seat at hearing that. 

_Finally._ His plan can begin.

Yeonjun thinks sleeping on the train might have been a mistake. The ride was barely an hour long, so he woke up feeling sleepier than he had started out. Beomgyu had been laughing when he woke Yeonjun up, calling him a cat for the way he stretched out.

He lets Beomgyu figure out the directions to their hotel, content to hold his hand and feel the sun’s rays seep into his skin. 

"It's such a nice day," Yeonjun comments, looking around the shops they pass by. "I think we should get some coffee after we get settled in our room." 

"We can," Beomgyu says, distractedly. He glances over and it looks like he's texting some group chat. "I could always do with some coffee. Or maybe even tea." 

Yeonjun squeezes their intertwined hands, "Get coffee, because it has more caffeine. There's too many things to do, I don't want you getting sleepy." 

Beomgyu pulls him towards a crosswalk, "How many things do you have planned?" 

"Tons!" Yeonjun exclaims, "Only a couple things today though. I don’t want us to rush through anything or just do things to check it off. I want us to enjoy our time together, and of course, if there’s something you don’t want to do, that’s fine too.” 

Beomgyu swings their hands between them, "You know that I’m down for anything, but I’ll let you know if there’s anything I don’t like. I’m really curious now, though.” 

"For you, baby?" Yeonjun winks, "I only have good things." 

The hotel they’re staying at isn't anything fancy, but the location of it is perfect. That’s arguably more important, considering they’ll be out most of the day. 

They check in at the front desk and take their room key to the 6th floor. They follow the signs until they get to a room numbered 613. 

Beomgyu makes a soft noise and presses a hand against his chest, "Oh? Did you choose this room specifically? It's exactly halfway between our birthdays." 

"Uh," Yeonjun scratches his head, "I did not." 

Beomgyu leans against the door as he laughs, "You should have just lied and said you did! I was really touched for a second. Where’s the romance?” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun indulges him, “Think about this instead. How nice is it that out of all the random rooms in this hotel, we get the one that means something to us?” 

Beomgyu makes a soft noise and murmurs, “Feel like it’s meant to be.” 

Yeonjun inserts their room card in the slot and punches the code that the front desk gave them. When it lights up green, they enter the room. 

It's a standard hotel room, nice and clean; though when they look out of the window, they do get a picturesque view of the sea. It's a beautiful bonus, though Yeonjun is sure that they'll hardly look at it. 

Beomgyu places a hand on the bed, "Just one bed..." 

"Yeah," Yeonjun goes to him and sits on the bed. He takes Beomgyu's hand into his and looks up into his eyes, "I figured there was no point getting two, right?" 

They've talked about this so many times over the phone. How they wish they could lie in bed together again, the way they used to back when they were practice dating. 

He wants to curl up against Beomgyu. He wants their heads on the same pillow, close enough that he can press his face against Beomgyu’s neck. He wants their legs tangled together, their cold feet warming against each other’s. 

Yeonjun wants it badly, and he thought Beomgyu did too. But with the blank, glazed look on Beomgyu's face—he wasn't sure anymore. He tugs on Beomgyu's hands, "Did you...want separate beds?"

Beomgyu blinks and then stutters his way out of his head, "No! No! This is fine. This is good." 

"Are you sure?" Yeonjun frowns. "Why are you acting all weird? Are you okay? You're turning really red?" 

"No, I'm not." Beomgyu immediately denies, pulling his hands away from Yeonjun's grip to touch his cheeks. "Am I red?" 

"Baby, you are so red." Yeonjun laughs, "What's there to be shy about?" 

They've cuddled so many times before. Why is he getting so red about it? 

Is it because it's been a while? Or is it because it's easier to admit wanting to share a bed through the phone when they can't see each other versus being faced with the reality of sharing one? 

Yeonjun gets it. Sometimes, he thinks about all the sappy shit he's said on the phone at night to Beomgyu and he too wants to die a fast death. 

He reaches for Beomgyu again, "Come here, baby. It's just me." 

But Beomgyu just turns even redder, groaning into his hands, making Yeonjun laugh. "I'm just going...going to use the bathroom..." 

And then, he turns around and rushes away faster than Yeonjun can stop him. 

Yeonjun is left staring at the space he was standing in, and a great deal of fondness bubbles inside of him and spills over in the form of laughter. 

He collapses against the bed and covers his own face. Choi Beomgyu is so fucking cute. 

He rolls to his side and figures he might as well figure out what lunch options are good. He's in the middle of trying to decide between two different restaurants when the bathroom door opens and Beomgyu stalks back in dramatically. 

"Yeonjun-hyung," Beomgyu says, like he's declaring war on his name. His face is still red. His hair is an unruly mess, like he's been running his hands through it. He takes a deep breath and then says, "I'm sorry to say this. But I do not want to have sex with you." 

Yeonjun has never sat up faster. 

"Well?" Beomgyu demands, like the point five seconds of silence from Yeonjun is already eating at him. 

"Huh?" Yeonjun feels like he’s been transported to another dimension. His brain can barely process the words and has instead chosen to empty itself out. "You mean...like ever...?"

"God, no," Beomgyu runs his hands through his hair, "I mean, tonight! Or tomorrow! Or whenever you had it planned for this weekend—"

"Dude, just give me a moment," Yeonjun puts a hand up, just to stop that train of thought. He really just needs a moment to process every word coming out of Beomgyu's mouth. "I haven't even thought about having sex with you—" 

Beomgyu makes a wounded noise, "You've never thought about having sex with me?" 

"No!" Yeonjun wants to kill himself. Now, Beomgyu thinks he doesn't want him. "Of course, I've thought about it! You're you—"

"Oh," Beomgyu says, dumbly. 

"I mean," Beomgyu continues, lamely gesturing with his hand at Yeonjun, "I've thought about it too." 

Heat rushes through him at Beomgyu's words. He has so many questions, so many things he wants to know, like what kind of thoughts, how often, and when— 

But even just this is too much information; what is Yeonjun supposed to fucking do with this information at this goddamn time? 

"Hyung," Beomgyu bites his lip, "Can you say something? I feel so stupid right now." 

Yeonjun swallows, pushes down his own inner dilemma and embarrassment, and tries to reach for Beomgyu again. "Just—come sit here with me. Let's talk about this." 

Beomgyu lets himself be dragged and sits down on the bed beside Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun turns to him so that they’re facing each other, but he keeps his hands to himself for now. 

Yeonjun decides to start with the most pressing thing that’s been said, “Okay, first of all...just in case you didn’t catch it the first time I said it. I have thought about it. Having sex with you. You are so,” Yeonjun clears his throat, gestures at Beomgyu’s everything, “gorgeous.” 

Yeonjun feels like he's going to burn from the inside-out. He feels like he's a goddamn virgin with the way he's acting right now. To be fair, he's never had to outright discuss it like this in the past. He's never had to lead. 

Beomgyu releases a breath, and Yeonjun continues, "We’ve talked about this before. I _want_ you in all the ways you’ll let me have you. You can think what you want, but it bothers me every time you imply you think that I don’t want you. Because I do and I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

Yeonjun lets that just hang in the air, lets Beomgyu digest that until he can fully believe it. Then he says, “Now that we’ve established that, I just want to clear the air and tell you that I wasn’t really thinking about sex when I planned this trip with you. I don’t think we’re ready for that anyway.”

Beomgyu still looks unconvinced, hands still clenched into fists in his lap, "Then why were you being so suggestive today?" 

Yeonjun makes a confused noise, “I was?” 

Beomgyu nods, "Yeah, like you were saying you had a gift for me and had tons of things planned and your hand was so high up my thigh—"

"I meant our monthsary date plans! And I have an actual gift for you, god," Yeonjun explains, suddenly feeling so drained, "I can't believe you'd think the gift I had for you was my—” 

"Anyway," Beomgyu continues on with a frown, "It's totally your fault I couldn't sleep on the ride here because I was texting my friends. I was like, guys, what does it mean when your boyfriend says he has a gift planned for you on your weekend vacation in Busan? And everyone just kept sending the eggplant emoji. Like my phone screen had a hurricane of eggplant emojis for a straight up minute.”

Yeonjun wants to close his eyes and cover his ears. He wants the ground to swallow him up. Now, Beomgyu's friends all think he's depraved. 

"And then," Beomgyu says, "We got here and you were like, one bed is fine, right? And you kept talking and talking—" 

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun covers his mouth to get him to stop, but Beomgyu just licks his palm causing him to recoil away, "Beomgyu! What the fuck—" 

"Also, I was kissing you earlier! On the train, and you were like, let's continue this at the hotel. What was I supposed to think!" Beomgyu huffs, crossing his arms. 

"I meant, let's make out here where people won't be able to see us. This keeps getting worse." Yeonjun sighs. "It's a misunderstanding. God, no wonder you were turning super red. I was like, is he just...shy? About cuddling?”

"I'm..." Beomgyu fiddles with the fraying thread of his ripped jeans, "okay with whatever we’ve already done in the past. But yeah, I just don't feel ready for that. And I just didn't want you to be disappointed that I wasn't ready." 

Yeonjun's heart drops at that and this time he takes the chance and lightly brushes his fingers against Beomgyu's. And when Beomgyu's fingers close around his, he feels protectiveness flare up in his gut. "Hey, I would never be disappointed because of that. I don't ever want to do anything you aren't ready for. I would feel sick if you forced yourself for me.” 

Beomgyu bites his lip, "I just get worried, sometimes. You have so much experience and with a bunch of people and I only have you. What if you're disappointed because I'm bad at it?" 

"I hate to say this," Yeonjun says, "because I know how you feel about it, but there's no one naturally good at this. Not even me, despite what you think. It's all about practice. And I promise you, when we do it and you’re inevitably bad at it, I am so willing to keep practicing it with you until you’re better at it. Hmm?” 

Yeonjun takes his chin, lifts Beomgyu’s head up so he can look into his eyes. It’s difficult, because Beomgyu refuses to meet Yeonjun’s eyes. “What else are you thinking about?” 

"It's stupid." 

"Your hyung's stupider." Yeonjun jokes. "Try me." 

"You're not stupid," Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, "I shouldn't be bothered by it because it's not like either of us can help it. And it's such an ugly possessive thought that I don't even want to entertain—" 

"But you're thinking about it anyway. And you're bothered by it. So just...say it out loud and let it stop living in your head." 

Beomgyu takes a deep breath and says, "Okay. I just hate the fact that I'm not any of your firsts. Somebody else was your first kiss, your first partner, your first time." 

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun pulls him closer, so that Beomgyu's sitting on his lap and Yeonjun is able to wrap his arms fully around his waist. 

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says again, looking at the displeased line of Beomgyu’s mouth, at the insecurity weighing heavy on his brow, at the shame in his eyes.

Yeonjun wants to shake him, wants to say, _Beomgyu, please, you’re my first love._

“ _My_ _sweetheart_ ,” Yeonjun murmurs, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sorry that you feel this way. I wish you could climb into my head and see that it’s full of you. When I kiss you, I only ever think of you. When people ask me about my partner, I only have words that speak of you. You know what’s funny?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "What is it, hyung?" 

"You're thinking about the fact that I'm not your first anything, meanwhile, I’m thinking about all the ways to make sure I never leave your heart.” Yeonjun frowns, “I don’t even want to think about the next person after me. All the people that were my firsts have somebody else now. And as selfish as it sounds, I don’t want that to happen with you. I care so much about being your last.” 

Beomgyu cups his cheek, strokes it with his thumb, “Don’t say that. I can’t even think of anyone beyond you.”

“Yeah?” Yeonjun turns his head, so he can kiss Beomgyu’s hand. 

Beomgyu nods, watching him. His mouth in full bloom pout. “Hyung, why are we like this?” 

"Getting emotional on our monthsary trip?" Yeonjun asks, "You started it. I was just happily thinking about lunch right before you walked out and said you didn't want to have sex with me. Breaking my heart like that before I even had lunch. Kinda heartless of you."

Finally, he says something that makes Beomgyu laugh. He relaxes at the sound. "Sorry for the phrasing. I was kind of having a breakdown in the bathroom."

"No worries," Yeonjun says, pressing a quick smooch to his nose, "Just know that when that time comes, we'll for sure talk about it first. I won't settle for anything less than your clear and enthusiastic consent." 

Beomgyu laughs again, resting his head on Yeonjun's shoulder. "Okay. That sounds good." 

They stay like that for a while, quietly just holding each other, until Beomgyu raises his head and says, "So, you've thought about it?" 

"What, lunch?" Yeonjun asks, looking at him. 

But Yeonjun should have known better, considering the smug smile on Beomgyu's face. 

Beomgyu raises a brow and smirks, "You've thought about being my first time?" 

Yeonjun is unimpressed. He refuses to be teased by someone who couldn't even talk about sex without turning red. 

"Yeah," Yeonjun says, his voice low and his gaze even lower, "I have thought about it. Should I tell you about it?" 

Beomgyu sharply inhales at that, the whole of him freezing in Yeonjun's arms. 

"Hm?" Yeonjun brushes his nose against his. "Ask me anything and I'll let you know exactly what you want to hear." 

"I think," Beomgyu says in a weak voice, grasping at his shoulders tight, "I think we should go out and have lunch." 

Yeonjun laughs and lets him get up. He lets Beomgyu change the topic too without giving him too much shit. His reaction was satisfying enough. 

Besides, there's so much else he has planned for the day. "Okay, but before we go, make sure to bring your stuff for swimming. We're going to Haeundae Beach right after." 

For lunch, they have the bright idea of a picnic on the beach instead.

They stop by at a nearby cafe to order sandwiches and iced coffee to go, and they find a nice spot away from the crowd to set up their spread. 

Beomgyu marvels at the setup Yeonjun is currently arranging for them. "Hyung, did you bring a picnic blanket all the way from Seoul? Did you plan this Busan trip from the very beginning?" 

"I'm not _that_ great," Yeonjun laughs, pulling their food out of the plastic bag and arranging it prettily. "I borrowed this from Soobin." 

Beomgyu kneels down and pulls a couple things from his bag to add onto their picnic spread. He sets his camera, his phone, sunblock, and even a packet of gum down. It makes for an interesting spread but Yeonjun will take it. 

Once it's all set up, Yeonjun grabs his phone and leans back to take a photo. Beomgyu automatically poses, throwing two peace signs up. "Okay, smile pretty." 

"I am smiling prettily," Beomgyu says through his mild-mannered, open bracket of a smile. 

"Smile like you mean it." Yeonjun calls out, but when Beomgyu only widens his fake smile, Yeonjun rolls his eyes, "Smile like you're thinking of me." 

That gets Beomgyu laughing and that's when Yeonjun snaps multiple photos. "Finally. I knew that one would get you." 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "Okay, asshole. Enough photos. Let's eat." 

The two of them sit cross legged across from each other with their sandwiches and begin to eat. As Yeonjun unwraps his, he suddenly remembers, "Hey, we probably should put sunblock first."

"I'll chance the skin cancer," Beomgyu says, taking a bite of his sandwich. "I am so hungry." 

"I guess we can put it on after," Yeonjun shrugs, "I refuse to be sunburnt for tomorrow." 

Beomgyu laughs, "Imagine. We look back on all our photos of this trip and we just look super uncomfortable because our skin is so burnt and we can't move." 

"I'd rather not," Yeonjun says flatly. For multiple reasons. Tomorrow has to be memorable, but not in that way. "Baby, think about how hard it'll be to do anything." 

Beomgyu takes a sip from his iced coffee, "I'm kidding, hyung. I know how badly you want me to put sunscreen on your back. Say no more." 

He's getting so ballsy. Yeonjun ignores that and continues eating instead.

"This makes me wish we could go on nice trips all the time," Beomgyu says, looking out to the water. "Or even just beach trips. Kai and I went to Eurwangni beach last semester. It was so nice.”

Yeonjun makes a noise of agreement. "Yeah, I think that short weekend trips are definitely doable. Though I've been trying to think of where to go for my graduation trip. Mom says I should do one and I think a couple of my friends are trying to do it too." 

"Oh yeah?" Beomgyu says, "Did you have any place in mind?" 

Yeonjun hums, "Yeah, I've been wanting to go to Tokyo for the longest time or Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam." 

Beomgyu snorts, "Why is that...somehow so predictable of you?" 

"How is it predictable?" 

"Your two favorite foods...ramen and pho?" Beomgyu says. 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, "I definitely didn't choose it just for that. Although I heard the food is really good at both places." 

"Yeah, Tokyo is a dream," Beomgyu sighs. He throws Yeonjun a pleading look, "Take me with you if you go."

"Huh?" Yeonjun raises a brow, "Who else was I going to take?" 

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu explains, crinkling his nose, “Maybe you wanted to go with your friends. People you were going to graduate with. I didn’t want to assume.” And then Beomgyu looks at Yeonjun with the cutest puppy dog eyes, “You were planning on taking me?” 

"If you were free and wanted to, yes," Yeonjun softens, "Wanna take you everywhere." 

Yeonjun wishes he was smaller than the small that he already is, so he could put him in his pocket. 

"I would love to go everywhere with you," Beomgyu says, softly. 

Yeonjun is so, so happy to be here. In this moment, in this life. They’re building something here, brick by brick, hand in hand, and Yeonjun can’t wait to see what it’ll become. 

He wishes it could be tomorrow already, because he wants to say the words. But he loves this feeling too; of having an infinite amount of time stretching from their present to their blank state of a future. 

They have so much time, Yeonjun realizes. 

Ever since they started dating, Yeonjun has felt like he was running against time. Always felt like there wasn’t enough, always felt like he needed to make up for what happened in the past. 

He doesn’t feel like that anymore. 

When they're done eating, Yeonjun takes their trash, stuffs it back in the takeout bag and sets it aside. 

Beomgyu passes him the sunscreen while he sips his iced coffee. "Here," Beomgyu says, "You can start putting some on. Can't damage your delicate baby skin."

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and takes it, squeezing a dollop of it on his hand before carefully applying it on his face. It's hard to do it without a mirror. He tries to open his front facing camera but the glare of the sun makes it hard to see. "Beomgyu, can you help—"

"Ugh," Beomgyu groans, dramatically putting down his iced coffee and crawling his way to Yeonjun and kneeling in front of him, "What would you do without me?"

Yeonjun can't help but laugh, putting his hands on Beomgyu's waist, "I'd be hopeless without you."

"Yeah," Beomgyu softens with a smile, carefully blending the sunscreen on his face so that it won't leave a white cast. "You would be."

Yeonjun takes this time to stare at Beomgyu's face, counts his long lashes, spots the almost invisible mole at the corner of his mouth, and eventually settles on the round tip of his nose. Beomgyu has one of the cutest noses he's ever seen and Yeonjun can't help but just drop a kiss on it every time it tempts him.

Just like now.

Beomgyu scrunches his nose, "Stay still, demon."

"Let me kiss you," Yeonjun cups his face and drops star-swift kisses all over it. "You're so fucking cute...Why is my boyfriend so cute? Hm?"

"You're impossible!" Beomgyu laughs, winding his arms around Yeonjun's shoulders, as Yeonjun kisses his neck. "Did you really need my help putting sunscreen on or was this just your ploy to kiss me?"

"I did need your help! But what was I supposed to do when you're all close to me like this? Not kiss you?" Yeonjun pulls away with the shake of his head.

Beomgyu zeroes in on leftover sunscreen on his cheek and rubs his thumb there, "I guess it can't be helped. I do love being kissed."

"How wonderful is it then," Yeonjun smiles, "that I love kissing you?"

Beomgyu cups his cheek and kisses him softly. When he pulls away, he smiles, "Maybe you’re made for me." 

Yeonjun feels his sparrow-heart wanting to break free from his chest. 

"If you say one more word," Yeonjun closes his eyes, "I think I'm going to ruin all our plans for today and take you back to our hotel room." 

"Hyung, you are so dramatic," Beomgyu laughs, absolutely loving it. He ends up pulling away though, "I do want to go swimming though. I haven't been to the beach all summer and this is so nice." 

"Wait," Yeonjun says, grabbing his hand, "I still need your help putting the sunscreen on my back." 

Beomgyu raises a brow, "Stop trying to seduce me." 

"I'm not!" Yeonjun puts the sunscreen bottle in his hand. "I just don't want to get sunburnt." 

"Right, right," Beomgyu mutters.

“Besides,” Yeonjun smirks, “You don’t need to be seduced.” 

“Ooookay,” Beomgyu says, grabbing his shoulder, "Turn around so I can do it." 

Yeonjun does what he's told and starts taking his shirt off. 

"Fuck you," Beomgyu says under his breath, and Yeonjun does his best not to snicker. He hears Beomgyu sigh out loud and it takes a moment or two before he can feel Beomgyu touch him. 

He stays quiet for both of their sakes. Beomgyu's hand is warm against his back, and he moves with slow strokes. 

"Did you know," comes Beomgyu's breathy voice, "that you have a couple moles on your back?" 

"I do?" Yeonjun tries turning, but it's impossible. "Where?" 

Beomgyu lightly giggles and then touches each one with his finger. "They're clumped together like this," Beomgyu explains with wonder, "like little stars." 

Yeonjun wishes Beomgyu would touch it with his mouth. 

"How cute," Beomgyu says, running over them with a sweeping hand. Beomgyu clears his throat, "By the way, are you going to keep growing your hair?" 

"Hm?" Yeonjun reaches up, threading his hand through his hair, "I kinda like this length. I'll probably get it cut when I go back home though." 

"Back to the length you had it before?" Beomgyu asks with a sad tone, touching it too. "I like this length though." 

"Why?" Yeonjun teases, grabbing Beomgyu's hand, "Because I look sexy with it?" 

Beomgyu looks at their hands as he intertwines it, "Because I like running my hands through your hair when you kiss me." 

Yeonjun presses his forehead against their intertwined hands and takes a deep, deep breath, before releasing it out. "You," Yeonjun whines, "You make it so hard for me. Can you hold back even just a little?" 

Beomgyu laughs, patting his head, "I'll tone it down until we get back to our hotel room. But I can't make any promises." 

Yeonjun pouts, "Why do I have to be the one with self-control in this relationship? Ugh, come on, put sunblock on already so we can go play in the water." 

Beomgyu gasps, "You're not gonna help me put sunblock on? After how much I helped you?" 

"I have to finish putting it on the rest of my body," Yeonjun justifies, "But I'll help you out for whatever you can't reach." 

Now it's Beomgyu's turn to pout. "Fine," He says, moving back to his spot on the picnic blanket. He makes sad look so heartwrenching, but Yeonjun has plans for them and they will not be ruined because they decided to waste the day making out. 

He squeezes enough sunblock to cover the rest of his body and then hands the sunblock to Beomgyu. He does his legs first, glad that they decided to change into swim shorts back at the hotel before leaving. After that, he does his arms, until finally, his chest and stomach. 

It’s difficult to ignore the way Beomgyu is blatantly staring at his body, and it doesn’t help that his first instinct is to flex. Attention is an addiction he can’t quit; Yeonjun _knows_ he looks good. He works out for a reason and it’s his right to show it off if he wants to. 

When he turns to Beomgyu though, he realizes Beomgyu has also taken his shirt off so that he can put sunblock on the rest on his chest and back too. 

Yeonjun can't help but stare. 

It's not the first time he's seen Beomgyu shirtless. Beomgyu has stayed enough times at their apartment and changed without shame in places where people can see. But Yeonjun has never looked. 

The full unhindered view of his collarbones, the pale skin of his chest, the lean length of his body. Yeonjun is looking now. 

Beomgyu clears his throat as he wipes sunscreen down his arms, "Can you just, like, quickly do my back? And then we can finally get into the water?" 

What's Yeonjun supposed to do? Say no?

"Yeah, I can do that," Yeonjun says, moving behind him and grabbing the sunblock from Beomgyu's hands. He's better than this. He's seen numerous backs before. It's just a back. His heart shouldn't be pounding at the thought of having to put sunscreen on a back. He had even asked Beomgyu to do it for him just moments ago. 

But it's not just any back, his useless brain supplies. It's Beomgyu's back. 

He squeezes some sunblock onto his hand and holds back a sigh. He wishes his mind would blank out as he starts spreading the sunblock all over his back, but instead, he's thinking about how the only thing that's kissed this back is the sun. 

He's thinking about how he'd like to change that. 

He hurriedly finishes applying it for him before his thoughts go further off the deep end. Or worse, his body starts moving without thinking. 

He slaps Beomgyu's back, "Alright, you're good to go." 

Beomgyu cheers, "Nice! Thanks, hyung." 

"No problem," Yeonjun smiles and extends a hand, "Are you ready? I bet the water is going to be nice and cold." 

Beomgyu takes his hand with a groan, "Ugh, it's going to be freezing!" 

Yeonjun tugs at his hand and starts guiding him to the water, "The sun is so hot, it's gonna feel good. You just have to go all in without hesitation." 

Beomgyu opens his mouth, ready to whine, but Yeonjun doesn't give him a chance. Instead, he starts pulling him head first into the water and Beomgyu immediately starts yelling, "Yeonjun-hyung, you are so evil!" 

Beomgyu tries to pull his hand from Yeonjun's grasp, but Yeonjun ends up pulling him close and wrapping his arms around Beomgyu's waist so that he can carry him. This is the real reason why he goes to the gym. 

Beomgyu doesn't stop yelling, "Hyung, put me down! Put me down!" but the moment they step into the water, he immediately changes his tune and says, "Oh god, don't you dare drop me!" while his arms and legs are clinging tight around Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun laughs, letting go of his hold on Beomgyu's waist, "I can't even drop you if I tried. You're holding onto me so tight." 

"Because!" Beomgyu reasons, and then looks down at the water, "Is it cold?" 

"It's nice," Yeonjun walks them further into the sea, "Trust me?" 

"I don't know," Beomgyu manages to joke, and Yeonjun laughs, "Come on, sweetheart! It's really not that bad." 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "No, I think I'll just cling onto you like this the whole time." 

"You said you wanted to go swimming," Yeonjun puts his hand to Beomgyu's sides and starts to tickle him. Beomgyu jerks in his hold, immediately trying to push his hands away, but he ends up losing his hold and ends up toppling into the water with a shriek. 

Yeonjun laughs and laughs when Beomgyu comes up and out of the water with a gasp, hand trying to push his wet hair out of his face, "What the hell, hyung!" 

"Was that so bad?" Yeonjun teases, "The water looks so good on you." 

Beomgyu narrows his eyes, which is the only warning he gives before launching himself at Yeonjun, trying to dunk his head underwater. But all of Beomgyu's strength is in his legs and none in his arms and Yeonjun easily dunks him into the water again. 

They play in the water like this for what it feels like hours in the sun. When they're sick of trying to drown each other, they cling to each other, content to ride out each wave that passes through them. They take their sweet time enjoying the water, laughing and laughing until the skin on their fingers have pruned like grapes. When they’re ready, they swim back to the shore and let themselves dry out. 

They talk about silly things as they lie on their blanket, things like what other places they’d like to visit, what their friends are doing, what new tv show they should start watching on Wednesdays. 

If moments were houses, Yeonjun could live the rest of his life here. He could talk to Beomgyu like this, watch him smile and laugh like this, brush Beomgyu's hair out of his eyes like this forever and more. 

The sun refuses to grant Yeonjun’s wish though. It comes down, but she does it kindly, saying goodbye softly and leaves them with a sky of cotton candy pink and orange before she goes. 

It’s sad that their beach day is over, but there’s really not much to mourn. The seawater that drenched them has dried, but this day drenched in happiness has not. Besides, they’ll have other beach days for sure. They’ll have this again some other fresh day. 

They make a quick pit stop at their hotel room to drop their beach stuff off before they head out again.

"Hyung," Beomgyu asks, swinging their hands together as they walk to their dinner destination. "What are we eating?" 

"You'll see," Yeonjun teases, "Just wait a little bit more." 

"But I want a hint," Beomgyu needles, clinging to Yeonjun's arm, "Are we eating seafood?" 

Yeonjun bursts out laughing, "No, why would I take you to eat something you don't like?" 

Beomgyu purses his lips, "I don't know. I was just putting it out there." 

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to you," Yeonjun says, "I always remember what you don't like to eat. Although, it would be nice if you could eat seafood. Especially since you're not even allergic to it." 

"I can eat spicy crabs now!" Beomgyu argues, resting his head against Yeonjun's shoulder, "I'm working my way up to these forbidden foods." 

Yeonjun snorts, "Why are you calling them forbidden? Who has forbidden them for you?" 

"Me," Beomgyu says with such solemnity; Yeonjun is so amused by it that he almost ends up running into a pole, only missing it because Beomgyu pulls him away from it. "Can you watch your step? You can't afford to lose another brain cell." 

Yeonjun smiles at him, confident the way fools usually are, "You like me even when I'm stupid." 

"Unfortunately," Beomgyu sighs, but he smiles brightly right after, "I’m just kidding though. I was just saying that to keep you on your toes." 

"Keep me on my toes?" Yeonjun asks. 

"I was talking to my friend about you and she said I should be occasionally mean to my boyfriend to keep him alert," Beomgyu explains, giving him a side-long glance. "Although, I don't really think I need to do that with you." 

Yeonjun raises a brow, "What kind of dating tips are you getting? Just be sweet to me all the time. I'm not leaving your side." 

Beomgyu blushes which Yeonjun finds so cute. How is he getting all red from simple stuff like this still? Beomgyu is saved from further teasing though when Yeonjun realizes that they've made it to their destination. 

"So," Yeonjun says, "I know how much you like snack foods and I couldn't really decide on what to eat for dinner when I wanted to try a lot of things. So," Yeonjun claps his hands just once, "I think a night market like this would be perfect, right?" 

"Oh!" Beomgyu's eyes light up with delight, "I want tteokbokki. Can we get tteokbokki?" 

He is as predictable as Yeonjun is with his own food choices. Yeonjun smiles as he pulls him towards a stall that sells just that, "You know I'm easy. We can get whatever looks good to you." 

Beomgyu laughs, "Is it because I'm picky that I get to decide?" 

_No_ , Yeonjun thinks, _it's because I want to please you all the time._

Yeonjun presses his hand against the small of Beomgyu's back, "That's exactly it, now tell me how much tteokbokki you want." 

"I want to share it with you," Beomgyu thinks out loud, "So, let's just get the medium size one. I want to try all the other things too." 

"That's a good plan," Yeonjun says, and then turns to the lady manning the stand, "Could we just get the medium-sized tteokbokki please?" 

"It's five thousand won," She says, moving to get a container and using the ladle to transfer the tteokbokki into it. She hands it to them, "Careful, it's hot." 

Beomgyu grabs it for him while he pulls out his wallet and hands the lady their payment with a quick, "Thank you!" 

Before they can go though, she tells them to wait, "Have some soup with that too." She hands them two cups of fish cake soup, and they bow their head in thanks. 

They move to the side where there's space for customers like them to put their food down and eat. Beomgyu pushes their bowl of tteokbokki towards him, "Hyung, you eat first." 

Yeonjun would usually argue that Beomgyu eat first, but it's their vacation and Yeonjun wants to be pampered too. So he pushes the food back in Beomgyu's direction and says, "Okay, but you have to feed me. Ahhh—"

Beomgyu laughs lightly, hand covering his mouth, "Alright, alright." He picks up a tteok with the toothpick they provided and brings it up to Yeonjun's mouth. But just as Yeonjun tries to bite it, Beomgyu pulls it away. 

Yeonjun pouts, "Hey, that's mean—" 

"It's too hot!" Beomgyu explains with a laugh, then blows on the tteok until he feels it's cool enough for Yeonjun. "Okay," He says, directing it back towards Yeonjun's pouting mouth, "Say ahh—" 

Like Yeonjun said, he's easy: he opens his mouth and closes it around the tteok, the spicy sweet gochujang taste filling his mouth. He chews it and throws a look of approval at Beomgyu, who doesn't hesitate to start feeding himself.

Beomgyu sighs happily as he chews on his food and Yeonjun smiles, "It's pretty good, right?" 

"Yummy," Beomgyu says, doing a little dance before picking up another tteok and gesturing at him, "Another one?" 

Yeonjun can't help the tiny giggle that escapes from him. "Yes," he says and lets himself be fed. They take turns eating like this until they go through all of the tteok and fishcakes. 

Beomgyu looks pleased as he sips his fish cake soup, "What should we eat next?" 

"Oh!" Yeonjun says, throwing their empty food containers in the trash, "Still hungry?" 

"I could eat more," Beomgyu points to a stall further down the road, "That place looks good? It looks like it's selling dumplings and kimbap. Do you want that?" 

Yeonjun is intrigued, "I wonder what kind of kimbap they have." 

They walk over to the stall and watch curiously as a man takes several pieces of dumplings and lets them fry in hot oil. Beside him, a woman is chopping what looks to be rice rolled in seaweed. 

Yeonjun cleared his throat, "Excuse me, could we ask what you're making?" 

"Ah," the woman turns to them, wiping her hands clean with a towel. "This is a Busan specialty. We call it Chungmu kimbap, rice wrapped in seaweed. If you buy it, it usually comes with spicy radish and some spicy octopus with fishcakes." 

Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu, "Do you want to try it? I'll eat the octopus and you can have the radish." 

Beomgyu nods, though he seems to be eyeing the dumplings that the man just took out of the fryer. They look crispy and golden, and they smell like heaven. "Hyung, can we get those too?" 

"Of course," Yeonjun responds, already turning to the stall owner, "Can we please have one order of the dumplings and one order of the kimbap?" 

"Three thousand won for the kimbap and then another three thousand won for the dumplings," She responds, and Yeonjun hands her the exact amount. "Thank you!" 

The two of them receive their food and go sit at a free table. Yeonjun is about to dig in when Beomgyu grabs his wrist to stop him, "Wait!" 

Yeonjun looks at him unimpressed, "Are you going to take a picture?"

"Yes," Beomgyu says, letting go of his hand to pull out his phone. Yeonjun holds back a sigh, as Beomgyu takes photos in varying angles to try to capture the photo in the most aesthetically pleasing way possible. Beomgyu glances at him silently, before directing the phone in his direction and snapping a couple pics. 

"Hey!" Yeonjun says, "I wasn't even posing." 

Beomgyu smiles wide, "Just the way I like it. It's going in the candid collection." 

Yeonjun raises a brow, "I'm concerned how many incriminating pics you have of me. One day, I'm going to open our group chat and I'm gonna see my face being used as a meme. Again." 

"I apologized for that already," Beomgyu laughs, and Yeonjun rolls his eyes. Beomgyu cannot call sending a cute selfie of himself captioned 'sorry' as a proper apology (nevermind the fact that Yeonjun extorted kisses in return). "Let it go. I'll ask permission before I make you into a meme again." 

Yeonjun sniffs, "Can I eat now?" 

Beomgyu makes an endeared noise, reaching over to pinch Yeonjun's cheek, "Yes, hyung. You can eat now." 

"Finally," Yeonjun dramatically shakes his head. 

He gets why Beomgyu wants to take a photo though. There's something pleasing in the way the dark seaweed green of the kimbap contrasts with the red gochujang sauce covering the radish and the boiled octopus. 

It's a feast for the eyes, though Yeonjun is of the opinion that it’ll be a better experience with his mouth. So he starts with the kimbap first, and finds that although it's just rice and seaweed paper, the flavor feels balanced. The rice is seasoned in a way that compliments the saltiness of the seaweed. 

He thinks it'll taste even better with the spicy octopus, so he picks that up with his chopsticks and eats it too. 

It tastes like the sea, salty and fresh, and because of the spiciness of the sauce it’s coated in, the flavor is just so enhanced. He turns to Beomgyu, who is carefully eating a hot dumpling, "Dude, this is so good." 

"Which one?" Beomgyu eyes the kimbap too. 

Yeonjun picks up a roll for him and brings it to his mouth. Beomgyu opens his mouth and lets himself be fed. Yeonjun immediately grabs a slice of the spicy pickled radish for him, "Wait, wait, you need to eat with this." 

Beomgyu covers his mouth, "Hold on, I'm trying to chew this first." 

"Babe, you need to eat it with this to get the full experience," Yeonjun argues, and this time, it's Beomgyu's turn to sigh, letting Yeonjun feed him the radish. 

"So?" Yeonjun says, watching carefully the expression on Beomgyu's face as he eats, "What did I say? It's good, right?" 

Beomgyu shrugs and waits till he swallows all of it before speaking, "It's good, dude. But the dumplings are better."

"Hm," Yeonjun picks up the octopus, "I think it's cause it tastes better with the octopus. Do you want to try it? Just the tiniest bit?" 

Beomgyu looks at it, really considers it, but stays quiet. 

Yeonjun wonders if some encouragement is needed, "If you try it, I'll give you a kiss." 

Beomgyu purses his mouth at that and then says, "I don't know what's worse, you trying to reward me with a kiss for trying new food or me actually considering it." 

"Two kisses," Yeonjun replies instead. 

Beomgyu smiles, "You're going to kiss me anyway."

"Then why were you considering it huh?" Yeonjun puckers his mouth and waits. 

Beomgyu sighs and then rests a hand on the table, just so he can feel stable as he greets Yeonjun's waiting mouth with a kiss. He pulls away far too soon for Yeonjun to kiss him back. 

"Hey," Yeonjun half-heartedly complains. "You're supposed to get kissed as a reward, not before you eat it." 

Beomgyu raises a brow and picks up a piece of the spicy octopus and immediately puts it in his mouth. He chews carefully and doesn't hint at how he feels about it until he's swallowed. 

"Well?" Yeonjun prods. 

"It's..." Beomgyu smacks his lips, "It's good I guess." 

"Would you eat another piece?" Yeonjun asks. 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "I'll stick to the dumplings for now." 

"Okay," Yeonjun says, feeling endeared that Beomgyu tried it for him. He nudges at Beomgyu's shoe under the table, "Kiss reward?" 

Beomgyu nods and Yeonjun reaches for him, hand settling at his nape, as he gives Beomgyu a quick smooch. 

Casually, he wants to drop the L bomb. Feels it sitting at the tip of his tongue, just waiting. It’s held back by Yeonjun’s will alone. 

He can be a patient man when he wants to be, but it’s just so hard when he knows Beomgyu feels the same way. 

He can do this. He can hold himself back until tomorrow night. 

Yeonjun pulls away and swallows the words. 

Beomgyu ends up finishing the dumplings by himself and groans, "I think I'm getting full." 

"Already?" Yeonjun asks in surprise. "I could eat like a couple more things." 

"I can too, but I want to save space for dessert," Beomgyu says, gathering their trash and throws them away. Yeonjun stands up too and waits for him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder when they fall into step with each other. 

"That's fine, I guess. I want to try the bibimmyeon I saw earlier," Yeonjun says, guiding them both back down the road that they started out with. 

There's a lady sitting by her table, surrounded by stacks of orange bowls filled with noodles, all topped with cuts of yellow radish, shredded carrots, strips of fish cakes, spinach and a mix of gochujang and chopped green onions. 

"Hello!" Yeonjun calls out, and the lady turns to him with a smile. "What can I get you?" 

"What is this?" Yeonjun gestures to the orange bowls, while Beomgyu peeks over his shoulder. 

"This? We call it bibim dangmyeon, they’re spicy glass noodles," She explains. 

"Oh," Yeonjun perks up with interest, "Could I have one order of that please?" 

The lady quirks a brow, "Just one? Are you two sharing?" 

Beomgyu shakes his head, a polite smile on his face, "I'm already full." 

"Oh, but you should try a little bit," She says, "You guys aren't from Busan, right? This is a Busan specialty. I'll add a little bit more noodles just for you guys." 

Beomgyu makes a touched noise from behind him, and Yeonjun smiles gratefully at her, "How much for this?" 

"Five thousand won," the lady says, as she takes the noodles from a bowl and dumps them into a strainer, which she then dunks into a steaming hot broth to heat up the noodles. After giving the noodles a quick bath, she pulls them out, the broth draining out of the strainer and transfers the noodles back into the same orange bowl from earlier. 

Yeonjun hands her their payment and she hands them the bowl, "Okay, kids, enjoy! Just return the bowl after you're done." 

"We will, thank you!" The two of them bow in thanks and hurry in excitement to a table. 

"Dude," Yeonjun says, sitting down and splitting a pair of wooden chopsticks in the middle. "She's so nice." 

Beomgyu giggles, resting an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. He's looking at Yeonjun with the warmest gaze, "I almost told her it's fine, I only wanted a bite at most. But I figured you'd want the extra noodles." 

Yeonjun blows him a kiss as he mixes the noodles with the sauce, "You know me so well." 

Beomgyu smiles, pleased, "Of course, you know I pay a lot of attention to you, hyung." 

"I know you do," Yeonjun says softly, focusing on his noodles, "Thank you for that." 

"Okay, I wanna know if these noodles are good. Come on, try it already," Beomgyu gestures at him to eat. 

Yeonjun snorts, but he picks up a good bite of noodles with bits of the fish cake and strips of carrot and finally eats. The noodles are perfectly warm for a summer night, and the flavor is sweet in a way that brightens, spicy in a way that's fresh, and savory in a way that makes Yeonjun feel so happy to be alive to eat it.

"So it's good, huh?" Beomgyu says, content to just watch him eat. 

Yeonjun swallows his food, "Babe, this is so good. The noodles are just slightly chewy and it's good because the vegetables are perfectly crunchy with it? Ugh—" 

Beomgyu laughs, "Why do you always make such a pained noise when you eat good food?" 

"It's just the way it works. Ask every foodie out there," Yeonjun says, before continuing to inhale the rest of it. 

"I guess Soobin does the same thing," Beomgyu ponders. "All our other friends are on the pickier side. You know what's interesting? I feel like it's harder to eat with picky eaters, because like, if we're picky about different things, then the types of food we can eat together dwindles. But eating with you or even Soobin, I can typically just eat what I want without worrying." 

Yeonjun chews on his noodles, "I think that's a good point. I actually like eating with you, despite the fact that you're a picky eater, because you like eating what I like anyway. And I can eat your leftovers." 

Beomgyu smirks, "My human food incinerator." 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, "You're so lucky I don't get hurt by these things." Yeonjun pushes the bowl of noodles towards him, "Take your single bite before I finish it all." 

"It's a term of endearment," Beomgyu explains, using Yeonjun's chopsticks to pull the noodles up to his mouth, "A pet name." 

"You are not calling me your human food incinerator as a pet name. Beomgyu, I'm going to get mad," Yeonjun huffs, watching as Beomgyu's cheek puffs up as he chews on the food. Cute. 

Beomgyu whines, "But it's a pet name that comes from the heart! You literally call me dude all the time." 

Yeonjun smiles at that, pulling the bowl back to his side, "I get a pass. I call you so many cute pet names. Also, I say dude with like, so much affection. It could be worse. I could call you bro." 

Beomgyu shakes his head, not even bother to comment on that. Yeonjun focuses on finishing his bowl of noodles instead. It doesn't take that long to finish them. One moment it’s there, and the next, his bowl is empty. It’s tragic. 

Beomgyu throws him a napkin, "Wipe your mouth, hyung." 

"Be nice," Yeonjun lectures, picking up the napkin, "Do I have to give you another lesson? Should I show you how a boyfriend is supposed to wipe their partner's mouth?" 

"Stop flirting with me like this," Beomgyu says, batting his lashes like a little tart. "You know I'm gonna say yes." 

Yeonjun covers his mouth with the napkin, trying hard to not show his smile. "Just for that, I am not teaching you. God, you are taking advantage of my kindness like this. I'm not going to buy you any dessert." 

"Nooooo," Beomgyu whines, grabbing his hand, but Yeonjun is too fast; he's already standing up to return the bowl at the front of the stall. 

Yeonjun walks fast and tries to escape, but Beomgyu catches up to him seconds later, latching to his arm, "Hyuuuuung, Yeonjun-hyung." 

Yeonjun tries to pull his arm from Beomgyu's hold, but it's futile. Beomgyu looks up at him with eyes so shiny and a pout so big Yeonjun feels entrapped, "Hyung. You're really not going to buy me any dessert?" 

Oh god. It's not like he could ever say no to Beomgyu, but it's appalling how Yeonjun can't even tease him like this anymore. Normally, he'd wait until they're about to pay to end the ruse, but he's gotten so weak, "You know I'm kidding. You don't have to look at me like that." 

"Yay," Beomgyu cheers, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Yeonjun automatically leans into it. "You're the best," Beomgyu sighs happily, "I saw they were selling hotteok over there. I'm ready for sweets." 

"Alright, sweetheart," Yeonjun says, endeared once again. It's becoming a permanent state of being. "Lead the way." 

Beomgyu holds his hand and drags him to a stall where a boy about their age is molding dough in his hands. Yeonjun thinks part of the fun of street food is getting to watch how they make it; it certainly furthers his appreciation for the food he is eating. 

Beside him, Beomgyu is watching intently too, his mouth slightly open, as the boy places the dough on the griddle where it gets to fry in hot oil. Yeonjun notices that after it gets golden brown, it gets flipped on its side and the boy takes a spatula and uses it to flatten the hotteok. 

Beomgyu breathes in, “It smells so good. If I were cooking here all day, there’d be nothing to sell.” 

The boy cooking lets out a laugh in front of them, “You would get sick of eating the same thing for a while.”

“Not this,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “If I lived here, I’d buy one every day.” 

Yeonjun chuckles until he hears the boy’s response, “Well, if someone as cute as you came to buy it, I wouldn’t mind working here every day either.” 

Beomgyu lets out a bright laugh and easily side-steps it, “Sure, can we get two orders of hotteok?” 

The flirty smile on the boy’s face doesn’t fall off though. He just nods and cuts open two fully done hotteok pancakes and fills them with a mixture of pumpkin seeds, crushed nuts, and dried raisins. He hands them both to Beomgyu, not even bothering to look at Yeonjun, “It’s usually four thousand won, but for you, I’ll only charge half.” 

Yeonjun fights the urge to roll his eyes. Is it because he can’t see them holding hands that he’s acting so bold like this? Should Yeonjun put his arm around Beomgyu’s shoulder instead? 

But Yeonjun doesn’t even need to do anything. Beomgyu snorts and points at the prices listed on their stall, “It says two thousand won for two right here. But it’s okay, my boyfriend is paying.” 

Yeonjun bites on his lip to stop himself from smiling smugly, but it’s hard when the guy looks at him in horror and says, utterly flustered, “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize? So sorry—” 

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says, handing him the money. He wants to be annoying and say something petty, like _yeah, my boyfriend is really cute, huh?_ but nobody likes an ungracious winner. He already has Beomgyu, and Beomgyu doesn’t have eyes for anybody but him. 

He ends up giving a polite smile and takes his hotteok from Beomgyu’s hands. 

Beomgyu doesn’t even bring it up, already walking away from the stall and only stops when he realizes Yeonjun is far behind. “Hyung,” Beomgyu pouts, extending his hand, “Let’s walk around together.” 

“Hold on,” Yeonjun says, trying to take a bite of the hotteok, but it’s too hot. He slowly walks up to Beomgyu as he fans his mouth.

Beomgyu scolds him, “You literally saw it come out of hot oil a minute ago. Hyung!” 

Yeonjun wills this piece of hotteok to cool down ASAP. 

“Just spit it out,” Beomgyu puts his palm out, and Yeonjun’s eyes widen at what Beomgyu wants him to do. 

He tries to speak, “That’s gross!” but it comes out jumbled. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “You’ve already seen me puke my guts out that one time. Come on, hyung.” 

Yeonjun shakes his head and tries to breathe through his mouth to cool the food down. It eventually works, but he feels like he’s effectively burnt his tongue. Beomgyu looks at him unimpressed, “You’re so dumb.” 

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun says, blowing on his hotteok hard before taking another bite. It’s fine now. It’s not burning hot anymore. “Got a little too excited, heh.” 

“I don’t know why you didn’t just spit it out,” Beomgyu says, exasperated with him. 

“It’s bad to waste food,” Yeonjun says, solemnly chewing on his hotteok. “I think we should get some ice cream after this though. You know...for my burnt tongue.” 

Beomgyu sighs aggressively, before giving him a disappointed look, “How are we supposed to make out tonight?” 

Yeonjun almost chokes on his food, recovering only after a subsequent coughing fit. “Beomgyu,” Yeonjun clears his throat, “Why wouldn’t we be able to makeout tonight?” 

“If your tongue hurts, you know…” Beomgyu trails off with a vague gesture and ends his sentence by primly eating his hotteok.

Beomgyu is so funny. Yeonjun licks his lips, wants Beomgyu to say out loud what he’s choosing to imply instead. “If my tongue hurts, what? I’m curious.” 

“You know how I like to be kissed,” Beomgyu sniffs, “I’m not explaining anything to you. You’re gross.”

“I’m gross?” Yeonjun points at himself, “Beomgyu, you’re the one who’s super concerned I’m not going to use my tongue properly to—” 

Beomgyu whirls around and covers his mouth. “Hyung! Don’t say it!” 

Yeonjun easily pulls his hand away from his mouth. “I’m just saying!” 

Beomgyu copies him in a mocking way and starts to walk away. It makes Yeonjun laugh, walking faster to catch up with him. Yeonjun hurriedly finishes his hotteok, throwing the container to a nearby trash can and his arm around Beomgyu, “Why are you always running away from me?” 

“Because you want to embarrass me!” Beomgyu tries to shrug off his grip, but Yeonjun curls his arm to put him in a headlock. 

Yeonjun whispers in his ear, “Hyung is just teasing. Don’t worry, nothing is getting in the way of us tonight,” and promptly punctuates that with a big fat wet kiss on Beomgyu’s cheek. 

“Hyung!” Beomgyu recoils away, almost dropping what’s left of his hotteok. His ears are a bright red. Yeonjun thinks about how Beomgyu didn’t even bat an eye when he was being flirted at by the boy who sold him hotteok. And then, Yeonjun thinks about his own effect on Beomgyu and feels extremely pleased. 

_Only I get to have this._

_He’s like this only for me._

Yeonjun pats his head, not feeling sorry at all, “There, there, finish your hotteok already, so we can go back to our room already.” 

Beomgyu turns even redder, the red in his ears spreading down to his neck. “Just,” Beomgyu swallows, “Just for that, I’m gonna eat this more slowly.” 

Yeonjun pinches his cheek, “Don’t be nervous. We already talked about this. We’re not going there. Not until you’re ready, okay? Besides, I was thinking, I kind of want to watch a movie tonight. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

“Netflix and chill?” Beomgyu jokes, and then immediately grimaces, “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help make the joke.” 

Yeonjun wills himself not to laugh. 

He looks at Beomgyu blankly, letting his hand drop to his side, “I cannot believe you. I’m trying to reel us back in to safe topics and you’re literally making jokes about it. Or are you that interested in my sexy body?” Yeonjun gasps, covering his body with his arms. “You’ve seen the goods today at the beach and you’re like wow, I want a piece of that—” 

Beomgyu starts walking away without uttering a single word. 

Yeonjun can’t hide his laugh this time, managing to grab Beomgyu’s arm before he gets too far. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I took it too far. What do you think we should watch tonight for our Netflix and Chill sesh—” 

Beomgyu covers his face with his hands, turning around and crumpling against Yeonjun’s chest, “I hate you a lot actually. I hate you so much. You’re so vile. You’re the fucking worst—” 

He says all of this so viciously that a stranger passing by might think they’re fighting. But the way Beomgyu lets himself be held and kissed, how he doesn’t pull away despite the redness of his ears and the embarrassment so present on his face—all that tells Yeonjun what he needs to know.

This is a boy that loves him. 

They end up buying one more thing, a block of vanilla ice cream, covered in a layer of fire-roasted marshmallow, on a stick before coming back to their hotel room. 

It seals the deal—even if they wanted to eat anything after, they wouldn’t be able to with how full they were. They were walking back to their hotel room clutching their stomachs. The food coma was settling heavy in their bones. 

Their movie idea ended up being perfect actually. Though before they get started on that, they first get ready for bed. 

Yeonjun lets Beomgyu go first, worried he’d end up dozing off on a chair if Yeonjun went first. 

Beomgyu is quick, stepping out of the bathroom wearing a familiar loose shirt and shorts. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, standing up with his own sleep clothes in his hands, “Isn’t that my shirt?” 

Beomgyu shrugs, “It’s my shirt now.” 

“It looks good on you anyway. Don’t forget to dry your hair properly,” Yeonjun reminds him. 

“I won’t.” Beomgyu says his reminders too, “Don’t take too long or I’ll miss you.” 

“I’ll be fast,” Yeonjun promises, with a touch too brief on Beomgyu’s cheek. 

Yeonjun enters the bathroom, rolling his neck as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. 

His mouth still wears a smile. 

He can’t believe that this is his life. 

He laughs a little to himself before finally getting in the shower and washing the day’s dirt off his body. He does his best to not dawdle, as he mentioned he would do for Beomgyu. He brushes his teeth, thorough and swift. He applies his toner and moisturizer, patting his face quick. 

When he finally exits out of the bathroom, toweling his hair, he finds Beomgyu lying on his side underneath the duvet covers. All curled up and waiting for him on his phone. 

If this was the sight awaiting him every night, he’ll never spend a late night in the dance studio ever again. 

He finishes drying his hair, hangs his towel on a chair to dry, and then finally climbs into bed—straight into Beomgyu’s arms. Beomgyu makes a pleased noise as he wraps his arms around Yeonjun’s shoulders, “Finally. I thought you said you were going to be fast.” 

Yeonjun buries his face against Beomgyu’s neck, inhaling the scent of him, “I was fast. Any faster and I’d still be dirty.” 

“Alright,” Beomgyu says easily. 

“You aren’t gonna say anything else?” Yeonjun pulls away so that he could look at Beomgyu’s face, “That’s it?” 

Usually, Beomgyu would tease him further, but that doesn’t seem to be the case tonight. Beomgyu pretends to think and then shrugs soon after, “Nope, that’s it. I’m in a good mood tonight, so I’ll give you a pass.” 

“Oh?” Yeonjun says with interest, “And what’s the cause for your good mood, sweetheart?” 

“A lot of things,” says Beomgyu, “I loved today. I know tomorrow is our real monthsary, but I’m thinking we should celebrate the whole weekend every time.” 

Yeonjun smiles at him, “I’d like that too. But wait, what if next month our monthsary falls on a weekday?” 

Beomgyu hums in thought, “Then we celebrate on that day plus the weekend too.” 

“Oh, so you want a three day celebration?” Yeonjun muses, “Then what about our anniversary?” 

Beomgyu hums cutely again, and it takes everything out of Yeonjun not to kiss him before he finishes his thought. “Then maybe we will celebrate the whole week?” 

“The whole week?!” Yeonjun repeats amazed, “And what are we going to do that whole week?” 

“Well, I don’t know yet,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “That’s a whole eight months away. I’m sure we’ll come up with something, baby.” 

Yeonjun chuckles, resting his head back down on Beomgyu’s shoulder. He closes his eyes and basks in the silence until it hits him what Beomgyu just called him. He raises his head back up, “Did you just call me baby?” 

“Huh?” 

“You did,” Yeonjun says with a wide smile, “You did it so naturally I didn’t even realize it at first. And it wasn’t even in an insulting way. Say it again.” 

Beomgyu sighs aggressively, “You wanna be called baby that bad?” 

Yeonjun giggles, rubbing his nose against Beomgyu’s, “Yes, call me baby. Or honey, or sweetheart, or darling. Whatever works for you. Although I have a feeling, you’ve been calling me pet names long before it ever left your mouth—”

Beomgyu covers his mouth with his hand and a glare, “Are you trying to tease me? If you keep doing that, I’m never going to call you baby ever again.” 

Yeonjun grabs his wrist to take the hand off his mouth, “I can’t believe you’re threatening me like this. On the weekend of our monthsary? When all I want is for my beautiful boyfriend to hold me in his arms and call me baby? You’re breaking my heart—”

“Fine, fine, fine!” Beomgyu says, “I’ll call you something...tomorrow. It’ll be my monthsary gift to you.” 

“Oh, my boyfriend is so sweet. He’s so kind—” Yeonjun clutches his heart, rolling to his back and onto his side of the bed, while Beomgyu sits up to whack him with a pillow. Yeonjun laughs as he tries to grab the pillow from Beomgyu’s hands, “Stop, stop—”

He manages to knock the pillow out of Beomgyu’s hands and he’s trying to grab a hold of Beomgyu’s hands lest he gets throttled. Beomgyu is heaving from the scuffle, his eyes bright and his hair in disarray, and Yeonjun lets himself be pinned to the bed. 

Yeonjun feels a little breathless himself. 

“You,” Beomgyu breathes, “Are the most infuriating person I know.” 

“And?” Yeonjun challenges, his gaze dripping from Beomgyu’s eyes down to his mouth. 

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Beomgyu narrows his eyes, “Stop looking at my mouth.” 

Yeonjun lets out a breathless laugh, “But sweetheart, it’s the prettiest mouth I’ve ever seen. How can I not look?” 

Beomgyu bites his lip, and Yeonjun’s heart does backflips in his chest. “Don’t do that,” Yeonjun slowly pulls his hand out of Beomgyu’s grip to press his thumb against Beomgyu lips, “It just makes me want to kiss you more.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Beomgyu says, pulling away and Yeonjun can’t help but chase after him, propping himself up by his elbows, “Beomgyu, come here—” 

Beomgyu giggles as he topples over sideways, “You’re so easy to tease—” 

“So are you!” Yeonjun follows him, plopping on top of him and pressing kisses all over his face, “Choi Beomgyu, you are so lucky you’re cute.” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu says, the side of his face pressed against the covers of their bed, “And you’re lucky to be dating the cutest boy in the world.” 

“You know what?” Yeonjun pulls back, turns Beomgyu’s face so that Yeonjun can see the entirety of his cute face. He strokes his hair and softly, he says, “I agree. I am so lucky to be dating you. You and your cute face. You and your brilliant hands. You and your brightness. You make me so happy.”

Beomgyu’s eyes water at his words and his mouth twists, “ _You_ make me happy.” 

Yeonjun rubs his nose against Beomgyu’s, a kiss in its own right, and says, “I’m so glad you were down to do this trip. I loved my time with you and Soobin in Daegu. But this...I like that it’s just the two of us. It’s much needed, don’t you think?” 

Beomgyu reaches up and tangles his fingers with Yeonjun’s, “Yeah, I wanted time alone with you. All summer with just a few dates here and there isn’t enough. I missed you so much and I want to be this close to you always.” 

Yeonjun smiles at his words and the phrasing of it brings up a particular memory for him, “Hey, do you remember when we kissed for the first time?” 

Beomgyu smiles, something slow and lazy, “How could I forget my first kiss?” 

“Right,” Yeonjun hums, focused on memorizing all the tiny details of Beomgyu’s face. “Just— remember how you wanted it to be romantic and then you played that song that you didn’t even understand the lyrics to?” 

“Sure,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “And you said you understood.”

Yeonjun nods, “Yeah, I couldn’t forget that song no matter what I did. Did you ever look up the lyrics to that song?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “No, what were they?” 

“We’ll have to thank Taehyun for it, really. The song’s called _Lover_ ,” Yeonjun says and then sings a little bit of it, “ _You’re my, my, my lover._ ” 

Beomgyu smiles, “I understood that part at least.” 

“Good job,” Yeonjun presses a quick smooch on his nose. “But as I was saying, there was this specific line that was playing when you had your eyes closed. When you were waiting to be kissed. The words were, _can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever_?” 

It feels odd to talk about it now. It didn’t mean anything to him then, but it means so much now. 

Yeonjun shakes his head at the thought, “You know when you told me it was all real for you, that was the first memory I came back to. If maybe you lied about not understanding, and you were confessing to me then.” 

Beomgyu shook his head, “No, I really didn’t know.” 

“I figured.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling a little sad. Maybe Beomgyu wasn’t confessing then, but once Yeonjun knew the truth, it felt like he was confessing the whole time. 

The way he looked at Yeonjun, the way he held onto him, the way he kissed—there was a confession in everything he did; and even in the silence, when he did nothing, it sat there, in his heart, waiting to be set free. 

That was just the type of person Beomgyu was. There’s love streaming out of him like moonbeams, drenching everything around him in light. 

Yeonjun rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder and sighs. Beomgyu sighs with him and begins to stroke the hair at the back of Yeonjun’s head. “It’s a lovely line nevertheless,” Beomgyu mumbles, “Are you tired?” 

“Just a little,” Yeonjun murmurs. 

“Do you still want to watch a movie?” 

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, but he snuggles closer into Beomgyu’s neck, presses a tiny kiss to the skin there. “But I don’t want to leave your arms.” 

He feels Beomgyu turn his head to press a kiss against Yeonjun’s temple, “You don’t have to. Come on, we can watch and cuddle at the same time.” 

They end up putting on “A Walk to Remember” which Yeonjun has already seen years ago. They put it on for no other reason aside from it being the best of what was free. 

On the bed, Beomgyu rearranges their pillows. He puts one against the headboard of their bed and stacks another on top of it, then he proceeds to sit against them as he continues to surround himself with pillows. God bless hotel rooms and the mountain of pillows they provide. It’s like they’re afraid they won’t be comfortable. 

“Sit here,” Beomgyu pats the space between his legs. 

Yeonjun crawls to him and sits there unsurely until Beomgyu wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, so that they’re lined up and fitted—his back pressed against Beomgyu’s chest, Beomgyu’s chin resting on his shoulder, and the rest of their limbs a tangled mess under their duvet covers. 

Yeonjun exhales, feeling himself sink back and melt in Beomgyu’s hold. “I like this.”

“Good,” Beomgyu presses a kiss to his cheek, “Because you belong here with me. Can you press play on the movie?” 

Yeonjun feels his breath hitch at his words, but does as he’s told. 

As the opening credits play, his mind can’t help but wander. 

There’s something about this trip that has them acting so honest and open. Yeonjun can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. Not that they’re the type of people who hide things from each other, but ever since they arrived in Busan, it’s just been one declaration of love to another. 

No. I love you hasn’t been uttered out loud, but does it need to be for it to be said? 

He pays the movie only half of his attention and thinks about that instead. 

He plays with Beomgyu’s hand, touches the hardened calluses on his fingers and traces the lines of his palm. He wonders what Beomgyu’s reaction will be when he drops the L word tomorrow. What expression will he show? Will he be happy? Would he throw himself in Yeonjun’s arms? Will he smile sweetly and say, _I know? I’ve known for the longest time but I’m glad you finally said it?_

Because here’s the thing: upon realizing all the quiet ways Beomgyu has been saying I love you without words, Yeonjun’s realized that whether he knows it or not, he has been doing the same. He wonders if Beomgyu heard him. If he already knows. 

He tunes back into the movie to see the main characters arguing. Landon, the leading man, is asking Jamie, the leading lady, for help practicing his lines for a play. He sees Jamie hesitating before looking away embarrassed. She seems to get over this embarrassment and with a certain bravado-filled smile says, _you have to promise not to fall in love with me._

He hears Beomgyu gasp behind him, and Yeonjun turns to him, “That got you?” 

Beomgyu smacks his stomach, “It was a good line. I’m surprised you didn’t give me that same line when I asked you to be my practice boyfriend.” 

“You would’ve hit me if I said it,” Yeonjun whines, gripping Beomgyu’s hand. Yeonjun stares at him, “I don’t think it ever occurred to me, that you would fall in love with me.” 

“Because you thought I was in love with Soobin?” Beomgyu asks. 

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, softly. “The whole time we’ve known each other, the three of us, I was just waiting for the two of you to get together. I thought I was trapped in this like, love story between the two of you and I would be the one making jokes about being the best man at your wedding.” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “It drives me crazy how you thought that. Even now, I can’t see it.” 

“I know you don’t believe me, but yes,” Yeonjun laughs, “It seems all so silly now. You must have thought I was dumb. Kissing you like that and thinking I had zero feelings for you.” 

Beomgyu crinkles his nose, “I don’t like calling you dumb for that. By all means, I was dumb for even asking you to do that practice dating thing, right?” Beomgyu sighs, looking at him intently, “People kiss people all the time with zero feelings attached.” 

“I…” Yeonjun starts, but ends up sighing. “That’s true. Kissing isn’t always romantic for me, like it probably is for you. And maybe that’s how it started for me, with you. I liked kissing you. I enjoyed it a lot, and I thought we could keep doing it because it meant nothing for either of us.”

“It always meant something to me,” Beomgyu shakes his head. “It meant something because it was with you.” 

“I know,” Yeonjun swallows, “I don’t think I went in thinking it was going to mean anything, but it ended up meaning a lot to me too. That I could be that person for you.” 

Beomgyu considers him for a moment and then says, “You know I’ve always wondered why you offered it. Kissing wasn’t in the terms of the contract. It wasn’t on the table, but you put it there. Why?” 

“Because,” Yeonjun starts and then pauses when his words come up so tangled. It shouldn’t. Not when the answer is so simple. Yeonjun tries again, “Because I wanted to kiss you. Even if I couldn’t admit it then because I felt like I wasn’t allowed to want you, I wanted to kiss you. You were so stunning to me that night at the party. You had pretty glitter around your eyes and you gleamed in all directions because of the shirt you were wearing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, especially after what happened with the guy who was hitting on you—” 

Beomgyu tilts his head, “I thought you didn’t like the fact that I was picking fights—”

“No, I don’t like it when you pick fights on my behalf,” Yeonjun agrees, “But I also can’t deny that I really, really liked it that you did. I couldn’t believe that you would do something like that for me. Nobody has ever done that for me. You were on fire that night and I wanted to kiss you so badly because of it. So I offered.” 

Yeonjun continues, “And then you said yes. And you kept saying yes. I kept saying yes.” Yeonjun exhales, “It meant something and I just didn’t know it. I guess I just didn’t expect myself to be so good at compartmentalizing and burying it.” 

Beomgyu’s gaze can’t seem to settle on just one part of his face, not saying anything. Yeonjun wants to know what’s on his mind, “Baby, say something.” 

“I just don’t know what to say,” Beomgyu’s lip juts out and Yeonjun’s heart drops. It must have shown on his face, for Beomgyu immediately adds on, “Hyung, I don’t mean that in a bad way. Sometimes, I just don’t have the words, you know? I mean, I didn’t know you felt that way then—” 

“Nobody seemed to know what I was thinking,” Yeonjun mutters. 

Beomgyu gives him a look and Yeonjun quiets. Beomgyu sighs, “Hyung, I’m just saying. I’m not upset.” 

Yeonjun wants to move past this immediately, wants the mood to lighten, so he says, “You promise?” 

Beomgyu gives him a smooch, smiling as he pulls away, “I promise. Now, come on, I’m missing a whole chunk of this movie.” 

They both turn back to the movie with smiles on their faces, which is rather funny if they think back on it. On screen, the main couple are in a car and the mood is serious and tense. Jamie gets out of the car and Landon immediately follows her out to touch her. But she just shakes him off and says, _I’m sick, I have leukemia._

“Oh,” Yeonjun says, “I forgot about this part.” 

“I thought this was a romantic movie,” Beomgyu says, with horror, “Is she gonna die?” 

Yeonjun pats his hand, “I’m not spoiling anything.” 

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu groans, “Fine, fine, fine.” 

Yeonjun grins, hiding a laugh as he snuggles further in Beomgyu’s hold. 

He loves this life. This is a lovely life. This is a happy life. 

That thought expands in his chest with a glow that starts deep inside and flows and overflows until Yeonjun can’t just sit there with all this love and do nothing. 

Once again, Yeonjun burns with the thought that he can’t say anything just yet. 

But then again, just because he can’t say anything doesn’t mean he can’t at least show it. 

It’s this thought that moves him—he finds himself looking up at Beomgyu again, gazes at the sharpness of his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes, the pursed shape of his mouth. 

Beomgyu is _so_ handsome. 

Yeonjun takes Beomgyu’s hand in his, holds it as carefully as one would hold an injured bird, and presses feather-light kisses to it. He hears Beomgyu breathe, “Hyung…” 

But Yeonjun pays him no mind. He will kiss his boyfriend’s beautiful hands without interruption. 

He kisses the back of it and thinks about how hardworking these hands are, helping Beomgyu make music and achieve his dreams one step at a time. 

He turns it over and kisses down the love line of his palm and up the life line and where it meets and thinks about how gentle these hands are, holding Yeonjun’s hand or cheek with a softness that Yeonjun has rarely felt before Beomgyu. 

Finally, he kisses every finger tip and thinks about how safe these hands are, cradling Yeonjun’s heart with such carefulness—Yeonjun doesn’t ever want it back. 

When Yeonjun looks back up, Beomgyu is already staring right at him, eyes dark and his long lashes casting shadows on his cheek. “Beomgyu,” Yeonjun breathes, “You’re absolutely beautiful, did you know that?” 

“I’ve heard it once or twice,” Beomgyu swallows. 

“But do you understand?” Yeonjun can’t bear the thought that he might not understand. “Do you understand how beautiful you are?” 

Beomgyu inhales, eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a bird taking flight, “You terrible man. Is this why you chose a movie you watched already?” 

Yeonjun bites back a laugh. He schools his face to fit the perfect picture of innocence, “I didn’t plan this! I just saw you and your hands and I couldn’t help myself—” Yeonjun shrugs, “They’re beautiful hands. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Ah, is that so?” Beomgyu plays along, the corner of his mouth quirking up and forming the smallest of smirks. “It’s just my hands though, right? You’re done, right? Can I go back to watching the movie?”

“It’s your everything really. But sure, go right ahead,” Yeonjun turns Beomgyu’s face back to focusing on the screen, and Beomgyu can’t help but break character, laughing loud and bright. “Stop, you better not kiss me while I’m watching this sad as fuck movie. Why would you pick this?” 

“It was free!” Yeonjun argues, “Maybe if they had a smart tv we could have used my Netflix account. Watch something good.” 

“You’re not even watching,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “You’re being so distracting. One day I’ll tell someone I watched this movie and when they ask me for the plot, I won’t be able to tell them. Because of you—” 

Yeonjun boldly kisses his jaw and pulls back, feeling smug when it stops Beomgyu’s words in its tracks. Beomgyu narrows his eyes at the television, refuses to even give him a glance, “Whatever. I’m not going to pay attention to you.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. He can certainly try. 

He twists his body, so that he’s sitting sideways on Beomgyu’s lap. He starts with kissing the side of Beomgyu’s face. His soft cheeks, his sharp jaw, the contrast of it all boyish. He remembers when he first met Beomgyu, how round he was. Just a boy then. 

His boy now. 

He feels Beomgyu tilt his head to give him more space as he reaches the point where his jaw meets his neck and he doesn’t even bother holding back a smile. Beomgyu could probably feel it in the kiss he presses next. And because Yeonjun is a fan of rewards for good behavior, he kisses him right where it feels the best. 

Yeonjun doesn’t kiss it often enough, but the first time he discovered it, Beomgyu had nearly jumped out of his arms. It’s this spot just below his ear that Yeonjun presses a tiny kiss at first, before laving at it with his tongue and then sucks. 

He feels Beomgyu let out a long exhale, and it only emboldens him. He cradles the other side of Beomgyu’s neck with one hand, and begins to create a long line of open mouthed kisses down the length of his neck. When his mouth meets the edge of bare skin and the material of Beomgyu’s shirt, he moves along, noses across Beomgyu’s collarbones, breathing in the scent of him.

“You smell so good,” Yeonjun groans, feeling ridiculous as he stops just right where the scent of Beomgyu is the strongest. It’s just the hotel’s body wash that he’s mostly smelling, but it’s the indescribable scent of Beomgyu underneath it that drives him insane. 

He smells like the part of earth that meets the sea, and Yeonjun could live in it. 

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says and he hates how it sounds like a plea, hates how he set off to tease Beomgyu but he’s the one who ended up needy. 

He kisses his way back up to Beomgyu’s jaw and pulls away with a pout, “Hey—”

Beomgyu’s mouth looks red, like he’d been biting on it the whole time, and he’s still staring straight at the tv. Although considering the glazed look in his eyes, Yeonjun doesn’t think he’s seen a damn thing. 

He puts himself directly in Beomgyu’s line of vision, cupping his cheeks with both hands, and says, “Sweetheart, let’s turn the tv off already.” 

Beomgyu swallows, eyes flickering down to Yeonjun’s mouth. Still, Beomgyu says with a wavering voice, “But you’re the one who wanted to watch the movie—”

“Please?” Yeonjun cuts in, softly. “I’m not going to tease you, so if that’s the only reason you’re holding out, stop it. I want to kiss you properly, the way I haven’t been able to for the past few weeks. I always feel like someone is going to walk through the door to interrupt us. Don’t you want me the same way that I want you?” 

Beomgyu closes his eyes, “You know I do.” 

Yeonjun swallows too. He does know how much Beomgyu wants him. But there’s just something about desire and how Yeonjun needs to hear it out loud. 

“Tell me you want me,” Yeonjun pleads, “Look at me when you say it.” 

Beomgyu grabs onto Yeonjun’s wrists to pull the hands holding his face away, only to intertwine their hands together. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, dark and intense. But that’s not even what gets to Yeonjun. It’s the way his next words are said so simply and with so much sincerity that it has Yeonjun’s breath hitching. “I want you so much, hyung.”

Yeonjun squeezes their intertwined hands and slants his mouth against Beomgyu’s, kissing him deep and with hunger so ferocious it surprises them both. Beomgyu gasps, but whatever noise he makes is swallowed up by Yeonjun’s mouth. Yeonjun kisses him, kisses him, kisses him, in a way that lets him be closer than close. He pulls away only to change his position on Beomgyu’s lap, swinging a leg over so that he’s straddling him. 

“Fuck,” Beomgyu curses, when Yeonjun presses him against the headboard. “You’re so—” 

“Hot?” Yeonjun smirks, taking Beomgyu’s hands and putting it on his hips. His hands burn even with the cotton material of his pajamas separating bare skin from bare skin. 

“I’m not gonna deny it.” Beomgyu holds him tight and says, utterly heated, “You already know I think you’re hot and sexy and gorgeous and kind and sweet and talented and I lo—”

Yeonjun kisses him to shut him up, knows exactly what the next words were going to be out of his mouth. It’s the _I love you_ he so badly wants to hear, but can’t afford to right now. Yeonjun knows there’s no way he won’t say it back if he does. It’ll be game over too soon. 

Beomgyu laughs into this kiss, lets Yeonjun distract him with a light nip on his bottom lip, and eagerly opens his mouth when Yeonjun prods. 

It’s hot, Yeonjun thinks, so hot the way Beomgyu kisses him so confidently now. He meets every flick of Yeonjun’s tongue with his own, clutches so tight on Yeonjun’s hips it’s starting to feel like a brand, and just—the shamelessness. Beomgyu kisses him like he’s never been taught shame. 

He always tells Yeonjun how good he is at kissing, tells Yeonjun where he wants him and his mouth, and doesn’t hold back when it comes to the noises he makes. 

Oh, the noises he makes. 

There’s the surprised gasp he makes when Yeonjun kisses him out of the blue. The throaty sound he makes when Yeonjun sucks at the sensitive spot of his neck. The whine he pulls out when Yeonjun stops kissing him. Yeonjun’s favorite sound though is this: 

It’s when Yeonjun lets Beomgyu lead and set the pace, which is always at a faster tempo than Yeonjun expects. Beomgyu’s hand moving from his hips, one roaming and making a home at his waist and the other wants to live tangled in his hair, which Beomgyu uses to pull him closer. 

Yeonjun suddenly remembers Beomgyu’s admission from earlier that day. 

_I like running my hands through your hair when you kiss me._

The thought brings heat rushing through every part of him and has him whimpering into Beomgyu’s mouth. It’s this—this pleased little sound Beomgyu makes when he hears Yeonjun affected because of him. That’s Yeonjun’s favorite sound. 

It’s his favorite, even at the cost of his own pride. But how can Yeonjun care about silly things like pride when it feels so damn good? Beomgyu is only pleased because he has kissed Yeonjun so well. 

"How did you get so good at kissing?" Yeonjun pants as he pulls away to catch his breath. 

Beomgyu leans back, brushing his hair out of his eyes, "You literally taught me." 

As if Yeonjun could forget. 

Teaching him was fun; whatever he lacked in technique, he made up for it in eagerness. Made Yeonjun feel so wanted and on-top-of-the-world good. Even when he was oblivious to his own romantic feelings for Beomgyu, he could admit to this. 

He loves, loves, loves kissing Beomgyu. 

"Dude," Yeonjun chuckles, "Past me was looking out for future me." 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "Dude. Past you didn't know a damn thing." 

"I knew..." Yeonjun thinks, "enough to teach you how to kiss properly. You're so lucky actually. You've never been slobbered upon or had someone use too much tongue on the first try. You’ve had it so good this whole time." 

"That sounds gross..." Beomgyu crinkles his nose in disgust and then frowns, "Hey, there’s been something bothering me for a while now…” 

That catches Yeonjun's attention. "What is it?” 

Beomgyu sighs, ruffling his hair. Yeonjun wonders what it could be that's eliciting such a reaction. 

“Sweetheart,” Yeonjun frowns, reaching for his hand. “You can talk to me.” 

"Okay," Beomgyu exhales, "So you know how I didn't really think you would ever like me and the practice dating was still really fake and not real for either of us..." 

Yeonjun doesn’t know where this is going, but he nods so Beomgyu can continue. 

"Well, anyway, after we kissed for the first time, I was really confused on how I felt, because the way we kissed was just so wonderful and nice, and I was hoping that was because that's just how kissing is supposed to feel and not because it was you—”

Beomgyu is rambling and he keeps fidgeting with the material of Yeonjun's shirt. Yeonjun starts rubbing his arm and continues to nod in encouragement. 

"And so, I thought well there's only one way to find out. I should kiss somebody else." Beomgyu admits with his eyes closed, "So, I kissed Kai." 

_Oh_ , Yeonjun thinks. 

At his silence, Beomgyu carefully opens his eyes and frowns, "It was a tiny kiss. The shortest kiss ever. And I didn't even know if you were kissing other people at parties or if we were exclusively kissing, but I just needed to know if it was you or not." 

There's a tiny part of him that's admittedly jealous. A part of him that's greedy and wants all of Beomgyu's kisses to be his alone. But as he listens to Beomgyu speak, that part of him gets easily drowned out by the guilt of knowing what Beomgyu was going through at the time. 

He takes Beomgyu's fidgeting hand into his and says, "It's okay. You don't have to justify yourself for it, but thank you for telling me." 

Beomgyu isn't satisfied though, "Then why do you look upset? It's okay if you are. I wouldn't have the right to it, but I would have been upset if you were kissing other people while you were kissing me." 

"It's not because of that. I mean, yeah, I'm a little jealous, but it's a small thing." Yeonjun frowns, "Also, no, I haven’t kissed anybody else since we started kissing.” 

Beomgyu bites his lip, a clear indicator that he's pleased but trying to hide it. "Okay, if not that, then what?" 

"You're going to think it's stupid," Yeonjun looks away. 

Beomgyu cups his cheek and directs his face so that he's looking directly into Beomgyu's eyes. "I literally just told you I kissed Kai. I'm not going to judge you." 

"Yeah, but you did it before we were officially dating. I wouldn't have faulted you for that anyway." Yeonjun groans, but Beomgyu stays firm in his stare. Yeonjun sighs again, "Okay, I know we literally just talked about this and you said you weren’t even upset at how dumb I was being. But...I still feel like shit sometimes for how I acted while we were practice dating. I just can’t believe I didn’t see it and I hurt you so much—” 

"Hey, hey, hey," Beomgyu shushes him and Yeonjun stills, "You can't blame yourself for that. I don't even blame you for that." 

"I know you don't. And like I said, I only feel like it sometimes. Mom says I should just apologize for it and I told her that you would probably think it's dumb." 

Beomgyu softens, "I don't think it's dumb. Not at all. I get it. Remember when I asked for your forgiveness and you asked me why. That there was nothing to forgive?" 

Yeonjun nods. 

"I don't know. Sometimes, I think the apology can be more for ourselves rather than the person we hurt. And if my forgiveness helps you get through that, I will be more than happy to give it to you." Beomgyu smiles encouragingly, "Come on, baby. Let me hear it." 

Yeonjun can't help but laugh. He gathers Beomgyu's hands into his and presses it to his chest, "Beomgyu, I'm sorry for hurting you in the past." 

"I forgive you," Beomgyu says, as magnanimous and graceful as a king, "And now, you forgive yourself." 

Yeonjun closes his eyes and thinks, _I forgive myself for the hurt I’ve caused._

_I forgive myself for being too slow at realizing my own feelings._

_I forgive myself for not being cognizant enough._

_I forgive myself for everything I couldn’t be._

Forgiveness washes over him like warm rain, and when it passes, the water carries away all the guilt and the pain and everything else Yeonjun couldn’t let go. 

Yeonjun can’t believe that it’s as simple as that. 

When he opens his eyes, Beomgyu is looking at him with a smile made of moonbeams. "Are we good?" 

Yeonjun nods, "Yes, we're good." 

"Yay," Beomgyu cheers, "Now where were we, weren't we talking about how good I am at kissing?" 

Yeonjun bursts out laughing, "Yes, yes, and then I was patting past me on the back for being a good teacher." 

"You were so foul for that," Beomgyu complains, "Like I was only learning the stuff you liked!" 

"That's your fault for asking me. You didn't even know if I would be a good teacher," Yeonjun smirks, "You just chose me because you had a big fat crush on me." 

"A big fat crush," Beomgyu mockingly mimics. "What if I actually wanted to date somebody else? What if I was genuinely asking for help on how to kiss someone properly? What if your way of kissing is actually not good?" 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to respond, but Beomgyu continues on, talking at a hundred words per minute, "Like say, I was trying to kiss another guy and they're like, _ugh, why do you kiss like that?_ And then I'd have to apologize to them and say, _sorry, I've been practicing with Choi Yeonjun."_

"Are you done?" 

"No, I can keep going actually. Like it's a serious thing. What if after we practice dated, I find out I'm not actually good at kissing. That's something I won't know until I kiss someone else. That kiss with Kai wouldn't have counted because that was just a peck at most and I would have needed to kiss various people to get a consensus—” 

There's separate timelines in which Yeonjun was too late in realizing his feelings or where Beomgyu decides they're better off as friends forever. He imagines the Yeonjun in those timelines would have the displeasure of seeing Beomgyu kiss other people. 

Yeonjun feels sorry for all those versions of himself. 

That they couldn’t be him. That they couldn’t have this.

He pushes Beomgyu back again, so he’s fully pressed against the headboard and then follows him so that their bodies are lined up and pressed together too. 

"Hyung!" Beomgyu yelps, grabbing onto Yeonjun's shoulders to steady himself, "What the hell?" 

"You don't need to waste your time thinking about that," Yeonjun brushes Beomgyu's hair out of his eyes. 

"Why not?" Beomgyu challenges. 

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu's mouth, infuriating, pretty, all his, and says, "Because the Choi Beomgyu who wants somebody else doesn't exist here. He exists in some other timeline and he can worry about that. But not you, sweetheart." 

Beomgyu swallows, "Not me?" 

"Uh-uh," Yeonjun shakes his head, threads his hands through Beomgyu's hair and presses their foreheads together. "I mean look at how intertwined we are," Yeonjun looks at the way his knees bracket Beomgyu’s hips, their arms draped over each other, hearts in each other's hearts, and says, "There's no space for anybody else here." 

"I guess you're right," Beomgyu's nose brushes against his. 

"Yeah," Yeonjun tilts his head and says the next words against Beomgyu’s mouth, "Guess you'll never know." 

He kisses Beomgyu slowly this time, the urgency melting away with every slick slide of their lips against each other. They kiss like they have all the time in the world and until their mouths are swollen and they have to switch positions because Beomgyu’s legs and neck are cramping. 

It makes Yeonjun laugh, even if it entirely kills the mood. 

Beomgyu groans immediately after Yeonjun gets off him, “My legs fell asleep.” 

Yeonjun rubs his leg, trying to help in getting the feeling back, “This is so funny. This has never happened to me before.” 

“Clearly a first time for everything,” Beomgyu narrows his eyes and then, he blinks, turning to the tv, “Oh we never turned it off. The movie ended already?” 

Yeonjun turns to the tv too and sees it’s come back to the main menu. He takes the remote and turns it off, “Oh wow, no wonder your legs fell asleep. We were kissing for that long?” 

“I don’t want to know how long,” Beomgyu grabs a pillow and repositions himself so that he’s lying down. “Come here. You can be on top like this.” 

“Wow,” Yeonjun says, “I just made the statement that we’ve been kissing for a long time and your first reaction is to keep kissing? Insatiable.” 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “Stop acting like you aren’t the same. You’re even worse. _Beomgyu, I miss you. Beomgyu, I think about kissing you all the time—_ ” 

Yeonjun whacks him with a pillow and the bastard only laughs, rolling onto his side. Yeonjun sighs, taking the pillow and lying down with it too. “I’m tired,” He says, closing his eyes as he rolls to his side, facing away from Beomgyu. “I’ve been doing all the work when it comes to kissing. If you want to kiss me, you have to move.” 

Yeonjun hears Beomgyu whine, feels his hand tug on the back of his shirt. “Hyung,” Beomgyu calls out. 

Yeonjun pretends to snore, and he has to hide his laugh when Beomgyu lets out an annoyed noise. “Whatever,” Yeonjun hears him say. “Good night.” 

At first, Yeonjun thinks Beomgyu is just kidding and he lies in silence as he waits for Beomgyu’s next move. But as he lies there waiting, he’s starting to wonder if Beomgyu really did fall asleep instead. He frowns, about to turn around, when he feels arms snake around his waist, followed by the warm press of Beomgyu’s body against his back. 

“Hyungie,” Yeonjun tries to repress a shiver when he feels Beomgyu’s breath at his nape. “Are you really going to sleep?” 

He’s contemplating the benefits of holding out just a little longer when he feels the press of lips on the back of his neck. It starts off slow like this, just soft kisses that inch their way to the front of his neck. Yeonjun lets out a pleased sigh, grabbing the hand Beomgyu has on his waist and pulling it up to rest on his chest instead, right where his heart is. 

It’s about feeling good, yes; but it’s also about feeling close—for them to sink against each other until there’s no space between them. 

“Yeonjun-hyung?” Beomgyu asks against his skin, right at the crook of his neck. He punctuates his name with an open-mouthed kiss, followed with the scrape of teeth against his skin, marked by smooches so tiny it almost tickles. It’s like he’s trying to ask a question in a language Yeonjun has forgotten. Consequences of being kiss-starved. 

“What is it, baby?” Yeonjun turns his head and bumps his nose against Beomgyu’s cheek. Beomgyu cups his cheek and kisses Yeonjun’s nose in apology. Yeonjun giggles, “You’re cute.” 

Beomgyu gives him a sweet smile that fades when he gazes back down at his neck. “Would it be okay if I left a mark? I know it’s summer and you wouldn’t be able to hide it, so I could like, make it where it would be covered—”

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, his mouth moving faster than his shame. Beomgyu’s eagerness rubbed off on him. 

Beomgyu blinks, “Yes?” 

Yeonjun nods, stretching in a way that he knows displays his neck in a way that looks good. “Yes. Wherever you want. I don’t care.” 

“Are you sure?” Beomgyu asks again. 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “Yes, just...just don’t go too wild, okay? I don’t want to look like I’ve been mauled.” 

“I would’t!” Beomgyu says, offended, but he pouts sheepishly when Yeonjun just stares at him. “Okay, maybe I would. I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Yeonjun simply pulls him to his neck and says, “Go have fun.” 

Beomgyu presses a short swift kiss to his neck before pulling away and sitting up. 

It’s a preamble that Yeonjun can only watch. 

Beomgyu presses down on his shoulder and says, “Lie down on your back.” Yeonjun follows his ask without comment and is subsequently rewarded by Beomgyu straddling his lap and leaning down to kiss him. 

Yeonjun welcomes it, wraps an arm around Beomgyu and presses down on his back so that he falls right on top of him. It leads to a messier kiss than intended and it’s one that ends too fast for Yeonjun’s taste. Beomgyu doesn’t even give him a chance to complain, though, just presses kisses all over Yeonjun’s face before making his way down to his neck. 

He’s the type of kisser that goes directly for what he wants. He kisses just a shy away to the right of his Adam’s apple and sucks hard with no warning. The suddenness has Yeonjun grasping at Beomgyu’s shoulder, who only presses a soothing tongue at the spot in lieu of an apology. Yeonjun blinks at the ceiling as Beomgyu continues to kiss around it, and that’s all he does—which is so contrary to what Yeonjun had expected him to do. 

It’s only when Beomgyu pulls away with a mouth slick with spit and an accomplished look on his face that Yeonjun realizes what he’d intended to do.

Beomgyu traces the hickey he left, and from what Yeonjun can feel, it must be huge and red. His heart pounds as he thinks of the location of it. Nobody will be able to look at Yeonjun tomorrow without seeing the big, fat hickey Beomgyu left. 

“It looks pretty,” is all Beomgyu can say. 

There is no river bed big enough in the world to contain the ocean of Yeonjun’s desire for him. 

“What?” Beomgyu says when Yeonjun just stares at him. “Was I too much? Did you not like it?” He fidgets, almost self-consciously, when Yeonjun says nothing. 

Beomgyu cannot be real. A boy cannot be this dagger-to-the-heart beautiful and be this hesitant when Yeonjun would give him everything. 

“I liked it,” Yeonjun says, voice deep, and he watches as Beomgyu holds his breath. How his eyes flicker back down to Yeonjun’s mouth before looking into his eyes again. 

Yeonjun can’t do this. 

He rolls them over, so that it’s Beomgyu pressed against their bed, head cushioned on a pillow and Yeonjun’s hand. 

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, so quietly Yeonjun feels like he imagined it. He closes his eyes in anticipation when Yeonjun starts to lean down and opens them in surprise when Yeonjun only kisses his cheek and pulls away. 

He looks like something from a dream in the hazy orange light of their hotel room. Then again, he always does in the night. 

It’s just a matter of what type of light he looks the realest in. 

And so, without saying a word, Yeonjun pulls himself up and reaches over to turn the lamp on their bedside table off. 

The room becomes shrouded in darkness and the only light is the one from the moon that shines through the window. 

Once upon a time, Beomgyu had invited Yeonjun to his room, and they had laid together like this. 

It was a dark night like this and they could only see each other by the grace of the moon. 

Beomgyu sat him down and with words out of a fairy tale, said, _I wrote you a song._

It’s funny how it’s those words, laced with magic, that turned the dream into something real. 

Beomgyu felt the realest then. Like he could be Yeonjun’s if Yeonjun was brave enough to ask. 

The moonlight shone in a luminous line down Beomgyu’s face then. _He looks so beautiful_ , Yeonjun had thought, _even the moon wants to kiss him_. So Yeonjun kissed him then too, down the path of light. Once on his forehead, once on his nose, and then finally on his mouth. 

The moonlight doesn’t quite shine the same way here but it’s okay. Yeonjun will still kiss him tenderly, and this time he’ll do it knowing this boy he’s holding is absolutely his. 

This time when they fall asleep, Yeonjun will hold him in his arms like his missing puzzle piece and feel like he absolutely deserves him. 

For all his careful planning of how their monthsary will go, Yeonjun doesn’t expect for it to start like this: 

He’s living in the nicest dream when he’s gently brought back to reality. It takes him a moment to even manage to open his eyes. There’s a hand stroking the side of his face, and for a moment he’s unsure if it’s real or if it belongs to a dream. If it’s waking him up or trying to pull him back to sleep. 

He eventually manages to wake up though and is rewarded with the sight of Beomgyu smiling down at him, “Hi, honey, I’m home.” 

Maybe it doesn’t matter if it’s real or a dream. Yeonjun would be happy to live in either. 

Yeonjun rolls to his side, pressing his goofy smile against their bed. Beomgyu didn’t forget his promise. “Honey?” 

“Yes?” Beomgyu answers and then straightens, “Oh! I thought you were calling _me_ honey.” He tugs on his ear, “I’m trying out different ones, until I find one that I like. Do you like honey?” 

“You can be my honey too,” Yeonjun says, reaching for Beomgyu. “Why are you so far away from me? Why are you up earlier than me, huh?” 

Beomgyu giggles, letting Yeonjun pull him back to bed. Yeonjun immediately curls around him, resting his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, his arm around Beomgyu’s waist, and his leg over him. 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu laughs, “You didn’t answer my question. Does honey work for you?” 

“Any sweet thing you say works for me,” Yeonjun says instead. “That’s not a line, by the way. You can call me honey if that works for you. If it’s awkward for you, then you don’t have to.” 

Beomgyu boops his nose, “I haven’t decided yet. We’ll have to see. _Honey._ ” 

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, hiding his smile by pressing a kiss on Beomgyu’s shoulder. It’s really the simplest things that get to him. 

He finally notices that Beomgyu’s all dressed up, even wearing jeans. “Why are you dressed up already?” 

“Well,” Beomgyu starts, “It’s kind of a long story.” 

“I have time,” Yeonjun says, letting Beomgyu go from his hold. “Also, go change. I want to cuddle more. I’ll skip breakfast, I don’t care.” 

“I got us breakfast though,” Beomgyu pouts, sitting up, “Aren’t you hungry?” 

Yeonjun blinks, not believing his ears, “You got us food?” 

Beomgyu nods, “Yeah, I got us breakfast sandwiches, fruit, and even coffee. I figured it would be nice, since we stayed up so late last night. Breakfast in bed sounded nice. I mean, it’s nothing, it’s not like I cooked it...not that I could, since we aren’t home—” 

“I love it,” Yeonjun says. He’s always wanted breakfast in bed and this isn’t how he pictured it, but it’s the thought that counts, right? He grabs Beomgyu’s hand and kisses his knuckles, “Thank you for thinking of me.” 

Beomgyu glows pink at the gesture. He reluctantly pulls his hand away and stands up to grab the food he bought and hands it to Yeonjun. Yeonjun takes it, “Please change back to pajamas. Let’s eat while you tell me your long story.” 

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu says, walking away towards the bathroom. He continues talking even if he has to yell to be heard, “It’s not actually a long story though.” 

Long story or short, Yeonjun wants to hear it. 

In the meantime, he takes out the food Beomgyu bought from the plastic bag it came with. He takes a clean towel and uses it as a place mat to protect their sheets from any potential food spillage. He hums happily as he lays out everything and Beomgyu comes back just as it’s all set up. 

Yeonjun pats the spot next to him and Beomgyu sits on it, cross-legged. “Mine is the one without the tomatoes.” 

Yeonjun grabs a sandwich and checks to see if it has tomatoes. It does, so he happily starts eating. He’s mid-bite when Beomgyu stops him, “Wait! I think that one’s mine.” 

“Uh, this one has tomatoes,” Yeonjun shows him and Beomgyu groans, “It’s fine I’ll just take it out.” 

Yeonjun laughs, “Sorry, babe. They probably just forgot.” 

“They always do,” Beomgyu sighs, “Anyway, do you want to hear what happened this morning?” 

“Of course,” Yeonjun says as he opens the container of fruits. “Lay it on me.” 

“So, we were sleeping, right?” Beomgyu starts, “And I think it was around eight or nine o’clock, my phone started buzzing. I wasn’t sure who it was, but figured if it was important they’d leave a voicemail and I could check it later. But even after the first call went unanswered, it kept buzzing. I was like, who on earth is calling me so early?” 

Yeonjun nods, chewing on his sandwich. 

“So, I grab my phone and I see that it’s an unknown number. Again, I don’t really answer unknown numbers, but something told me I should answer this one.” Beomgyu always tells stories with so much animation. Yeonjun can clearly picture this. “I felt bad about taking the call here, so I got out of bed and took it in the bathroom. But by the time I got there, my phone stopped ringing, so I was ready to go back to bed, kind of annoyed. UNTIL?” 

“Until?” Yeonjun laughs. 

“My phone started ringing again,” Beomgyu widens his eyes, grabbing his phone to mimic how he moved. “And I finally answered it and said, _hi, this is Choi Beomgyu speaking_. And the person on the other line said, Hi Mr. Choi, this is so and so, god I don’t even remember their name, from Big Hit Entertainment—”

“Oh my god—” 

“I know!” Beomgyu interjects. He hasn’t even taken a bite of his food. “And they were like, I’m calling to talk to you about your application for the music production internship you applied for. Basically, they asked me when I would be available to start—”

“Baby!” Yeonjun exclaims, “Oh my god? This is so great—” 

“I know! I know!” Beomgyu holds his cheeks in his hands, “I can’t believe it, this is like my dream internship—” 

“I’m so proud of you,” Yeonjun puts his sandwich down and wraps him up in a hug, kissing his temple. “I knew it! What did I tell you?” 

Beomgyu leans into him, “Hyung, you’re biased though—”

“Because I know you? And how talented you are? Oh my god, my baby on his way to being the top producer in South Korea—”

“Stop stop, you’re going to jinx it,” Beomgyu giggles, pulling away. But Yeonjun pulls him right back, giving him a sweet smooch. “It’s called manifestation. And it clearly works.” 

“Anyway,” Beomgyu says, “I was too happy and excited and in a good mood to go back to sleep. So, I decided to get us breakfast instead.” 

“You should have woken me up immediately,” Yeonjun pouts. “Did you tell Soobin already? Your parents?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.” 

How on Earth does Yeonjun respond to that without saying _I love you_? How? How? 

“I adore you. I’m so proud of you,” Yeonjun says instead. “Thank you for telling me first.” 

So many words said, and all of them inadequate. So many words when all they boil down to is _I love you._

Beomgyu seems completely oblivious to his ongoing struggle. He just smiles at Yeonjun and continues, “Thank you, I really couldn’t have done it without you. Remember when I’d send you songs at like two in the morning asking you if it’s good?” 

“I was usually asleep by then,” Yeonjun reminds him. 

“Yeah, but you’d listen to it first thing in the morning. And you’d always call leave me a voice note,” Beomgy looks lost in thought, “ _Baby, it’s good as always. I like what you did with the bass. I like the piano in the beginning_.” 

“I’m sorry, they’re never technical comments. I don’t actually know anything about music—” 

“I know, I wasn’t making fun of you,” Beomgyu says kindly. He takes a piece of cantaloupe and nibbles on it, “I loved getting them anyway. I put little parts in my songs that I feel like you’d like, sometimes. And it makes me so happy when you point it out to me later saying you like it.” 

Yeonjun stares at him, feeling like he needs three business days to process that. But already Beomgyu is moving on. 

“It feels like a fun game,” Beomgyu giggles, “But anyway, I’ll call Soobin and my parents in a bit about it. I also don’t think I’m going to wait to hear back from the other companies I applied to. Big Hit gave me a couple days to accept their offer, but I’ll play hard-to-get for the weekend and then tell them yes.” 

Yeonjun laughs at his phrasing, “You tell them. They’re so lucky to have you.” 

Beomgyu grins at him, “Anyway, I’m so very happy today. I mean, I have so many reasons to be happy but I’m especially happy today.” 

“You should be!” Yeonjun says, reaching for the bottle of iced coffee, “I have lots of good things planned. You’re fully booked today.” 

“Yeah?” Beomgyu asks, smiling at his excitement. “What are we doing today?” 

Yeonjun can barely sit still, “Okay, so first, I want to take you to Gamcheon Cultural Village. It’s very cool, we can take cute pictures and see nice sights and be the tourists I promised we would be. And then we do a little souvenir shopping. We have a nice little boba break. Are you with me?” 

Beomgyu laughs, “Yes, yes, go on—” 

“And then we walk around some more until we’re hungry again and we have dinner at this Japanese place I found. You’ll love it, no seafood included. And then I was thinking, it’d be a waste to just go back here—”

“Is it really a waste?” Beomgyu teases, lightly touching the mark on Yeonjun’s neck, “Last night was really nice—”

Yeonjun doesn’t take the bait, “We can do that again tonight. Babe, focus.” Beomgyu puts on his serious face. “Okay, so dinner. We have a nice dinner and I was thinking, we can walk around the beach for a while after? Or maybe just sit there and talk for a while? I don’t know, does that sound good to you?” 

Beomgyu grabs his face with both hands and with full affection, says, “Yes, honey. That sounds good.” 

Yeonjun melts in his hands. It’s the pet name that does him again. “Can you call me something sweet all the time?” 

“Is that what you want?” Beomgyu asks, and Yeonjun nods. “Okay,” Beomgyu says, easily. 

“Just like that?” Yeonjun asks, just to make sure. 

Beomgyu’s gaze is always soft when it’s on him, “If it makes you this happy, how could I say no?” 

Yeonjun turns his face and presses a kiss to Beomgyu’s hand that cradles him. A kiss in lieu of three words. 

Beomgyu closes his eyes and leans in to give him a proper kiss. He lingers and against his mouth says, “Happy four months. Let’s have a good day today, yeah?” 

“What exactly is Gamcheon Culture Village?” Beomgyu asks on the bus ride to their first destination of the day. 

“Apparently,” Yeonjun pulls up his phone for a picture he saved, “This used to be a poor town filled with refugees from the Korean war. But around 2009 or 2010, the town received money from the government to renovate the whole village and artists turned it into this colorful neighborhood that we can see today.” 

He shows Beomgyu a picture of the village, a landscape of blues, picture perfect houses stacked carefully upon each other on a hill.

“Oh, wow,” Beomgyu marvels, “Not surprised it’s a top tourist destination then. Look at those stairs.” 

Yeonjun snickers, “Imagine if we brought Soobin here.” 

Beomgyu smirks at the thought, “It would be so funny. I think we can bully him into doing it someday.” 

“Already thinking about coming back here?” Yeonjun asks. 

“Why not?” Beomgyu raises his brow, “It’s nice enough. Close enough.” 

Yeonjun looks at him unimpressed, “Nice enough? Only nice enough. Babe, are you bored?” 

Solemnly, Beomgyu says, pressing a hand to his heart, “I am waiting to be impressed.” 

“Wow,” Yeonjun shakes his head, facing away from him and staring directly out the window, “I’ll never forget this. I spend hours planning our weekend monthsary trip. I take care of everything. And the light of my life—” 

“Light of my life?” Beomgyu asks with interest, trying to turn Yeonjun back to him. 

Yeonjun sniffs, consistent in his dramatics. He spares Beomgyu no attention and continues, “The light of my life, henceforth L-O-M-L, says I have to work harder in impressing him—”

Beomgyu laughs, “Hyung, please, I’m just kidding—” 

“Sometimes, I can still hear the disappointment in his voice,” Yeonjun wipes the metaphorical tears from his eyes. “Sometimes, I can—” 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu prods, leaning against him, clutching his hand, “I’m sorry.” 

Yeonjun closes his eyes, ready to go through the five stages of grief, when Beomgyu rests his chin on his shoulder. It takes everything out of Yeonjun to not look at him. 

“Baby,” Beomgyu whispers, “I said I’m sorry.”

It really only takes one word. Yeonjun looks at him. 

Beomgyu presses a tiny kiss against the corner of his mouth, punctuates it with a, “Mwah!” 

How can Yeonjun even pretend to be mad at him? 

They arrive at the entrance of the village and happen upon a large map posted on a bulletin board outside of the Tourist Information Center. 

"Oh, it looks like we can collect stamps across different parts of the village," Yeonjun notes as he looks at it, "Doesn't that sound fun?" 

Beomgyu seems unconvinced, "Hmm. How many stamps are there to collect?" 

Yeonjun counts them one by one, "Around twelve?" 

"Pass," Beomgyu says, walking away, but Yeonjun grabs his arm before he can get too far, "Come on, wouldn't it be fun?" 

Beomgyu heaves a sigh, "I'm down to explore the village obviously, but I know you. You're going to get obsessed with collecting stamps and completing this. I just want to do this stress-free." 

"Fine," Yeonjun says with a pout, staring at the map. 

Beomgyu stares at him, before sighing again, "Okay, why don't we do this? Let's do half of them. Pick six that you want and then I will happily let you drag me to them." 

Yeonjun turns his pout directly at him, "Let's just do all twelve. I'll buy you boba after. Please? Please? Beomgyu, please?" 

"Hyung," Beomgyu whines, covering his face with his hands while shaking his head, "I'm already such a fool when it comes to you." 

"Hm?" Yeonjun copies him, presses his hands to his own cheeks, "What does that mean?" 

Beomgyu closes his eyes, exhales aggressively, and offers his hand, "Come on. I want a large taro milk tea boba afterwards. Let's go. You lead the way." 

Yeonjun cheers, "Yay, you're the best! I—" 

Yeonjun stops himself with wide eyes. His heart pounds so loud at what could have just happened. He almost said it. 

"Hm?" Beomgyu looks at him, a question in his eyes. 

"I mean, I appreciate you so much!" Yeonjun hurriedly says, taking Beomgyu's hand and leading him to the direction of the first stop, "Best boyfriend in the world." 

Beomgyu laughs, "Thanks, hyung. I appreciate you too." 

The twelve stamps they're supposed to collect supposedly represent all the important locations of Gamcheon Cultural Village and are organized neatly as a route throughout the village. 

Thinking of Beomgyu, Yeonjun does his best to collect the stamps at a leisurely pace. Not that it's hard, there's so much to see in this beautiful blue village, and he doesn't want them to miss anything because they were rushing through it. 

One stop features a little museum that lets them see the old pictures of the village before it transformed to the tourist attraction that it is today. They feel even more impactful considering the photos are in black and white in comparison to the colorful village it is now. 

"It's amazing," Beomgyu comments, "how much life art can bring to a place." 

Yeonjun couldn't agree more. 

They get a little stamp on their map before they move on to the next one. 

Another stop they visit is a place called "House of Peace" where they could write messages of peace on the wall. They read the messages before them prior to writing their own. 

"Beomgyu, look," Yeonjun says, pointing at a specific message. He reads it, "Peace will be achieved after I'm fed." 

"Wow," Beomgyu looks at him, "Did you write that?" 

"Shut up," Yeonjun pushes his shoulder, "I wouldn't write something so silly." 

"Uhuh," Beomgyu says, already turning away to find a spot to write his message, "Sure." 

Yeonjun lets the teasing go, moving to find his own spot to write his message. He thinks a little bit of what to write and eventually decides on a simple message. 

_Love is peace_ , Yeonjun writes. 

It's a very simple message, but it doesn’t make it less true. Here’s what Yeonjun knows about love: it’s a noun and a verb. It sits in the heart, but it moves like a gardener. Love is in the hands that sow seeds of kindness and care across the gardens of the earth. And love tends, love nurtures, and love watches those seeds grow until the whole world is covered in blooms pink with love. 

The love Beomgyu has given him has only made Yeonjun want to give it back tenfold. 

Imagine if everyone in the world was loved like that. 

Aside from the stops highlighted by the guide map, there’s a lot of other interesting things to see in between. 

For example, they find this wall filled with pieces of plaques decorated with different fish artworks. They don't even notice that all the little fishes form a larger fish until they ask another person to take their picture in front of it. 

"Oh my god," Beomgyu says, looking at their picture in front of the mural. "It's a big ass fish." 

"Where?" Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu shows him the picture, drawing the outline of the fish with his finger.. 

"Ohhhhh," Yeonjun can’t believe they missed it, "That's a big ass fish indeed." 

The houses itself are little works of art. There's tiny bird sculptures decorating some houses. There's houses painted with drawings of tiny cats and dogs. As they walk the main road, there's even a house with a large Spiderman drawing painted on its walls.

Yeonjun asks, "If you could pick a house here, which one would you live in?" 

"Hmmm," Beomgyu thinks as he swings their intertwined hands between them. "I would pick...the one closest to the top. I feel like it would feel like living on a cloud. Wouldn't that be cool?" 

"You wouldn't mind the climb?" Yeonjun asks, "Bringing your groceries up that way?" 

"Nah," Beomgyu says, "First of all, I would get food delivered so it wouldn't be a problem. Second, I don't know. Don't you think a view like that would be worth it?" 

"Definitely worth it," Yeonjun agrees, "Though wouldn’t you be scared of how high up you are? Also, you can’t live off take out food forever. You’re going to get old and your body will disintegrate.” 

Beomgyu snorts, "This is why you get teased about being old. Stop talking like this." 

"What? It's true. I'm saying this out of concern for your health," Yeonjun says. "I want you to live a long life. Eat your vegetables lightly seasoned and all that.” 

Yeonjun wants Beomgyu in his life for as long as they can get. 

Beomgyu pushes the question back to him, "What about you? Which house would you live in?" 

It’s a question whose answer is so obvious, Yeonjun has to pretend to think, "Hmmm...I think it would be the house closest to the top too." 

"Oh, why?" Beomgyu asks, turning the question back to him, "Wouldn't you mind the climb? Aren’t you scared of heights?" 

"I feel like It would be annoying on some days, especially if I’m coming from work,” Yeonjun looks at a large stack of stairs they pass by. It looks like it’s worth several stories long. “Other days, I’d justify it as exercise. Maybe my legs will finally be stronger than yours.” 

Beomgyu raises a brow, “Well, if I lived here too, then wouldn’t I get the same exercise and still be stronger than you?” 

“You just told me you wouldn’t bother moving if you lived there,” Yeonjun retorts, “Anyway, regarding the fear of heights, I feel like it would be worth it.” 

“Because of the view,” Beomgyu agrees, but he’s got it all wrong. 

Yeonjun corrects him, “No, because you’d live there too, dummy.” 

Beomgyu side-eyes him, "For that pickup line, I'm going to throw you off a cliff." 

"You're so mean to me," Yeonjun stops in his tracks which halts Beomgyu in his steps too, considering they’re holding hands. 

"You're so cheesy!" Beomgyu complains, tugging at his hand, "I answered the question seriously." 

"I answered mine seriously too," Yeonjun says, feeling slightly put-off at Beomgyu’s words. 

Beomgyu laughs, “No, you didn’t, you were just flirting with me again.” 

Yeonjun drops his hand as a thought hits him. “Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says, uncertainty rising in him, “Do you think that because I’m flirting with you that I don’t mean what I say?” 

“Huh?” Beomgyu tilts his head, “What are you trying to say? Aren’t you usually kidding when you’re flirting with me? Like last night when you were like teasing me while we were watching the movie and you were all,” Beomgyu imitates his voice, _“Do you know how absolutely beautiful you are—”_

It would be funny if it didn’t feel so absurd. How can Beomgyu not think that was serious? Now, Yeonjun is wondering how many of the serious things he’s said in the past were taken jokingly by Beomgyu. How many of the heartfelt things he’s said before didn’t pierce through? 

“That was serious,” Yeonjun says, biting his lip. “Even the ones that sound like pickup lines, even the ones that sound just like I’m teasing you, I mean them.” 

Beomgyu blinks, before carefully trying to hold his hand again. Yeonjun lets him. “Hyung, why do you look so bothered by it? I mean, it doesn’t really change anything, right? I like you, you like me, end of the story.” 

“But like doesn’t even cover what I feel for you,” Yeonjun scuffs his shoes against the ground. “I know I’m bad at wording how I feel, but you know that it’s more than _like_ at least, right?” 

Beomgyu puts himself in his line of vision, holding the side of Yeonjun’s face with the lightest touch, and presses a kiss against his cheek. “I know you're serious about your affection. Like when you told me last night that I make you happy. Or when you tell me you're doing your best to figure out what you feel for me. I know meeting my parents meant just as much to you as it did to me," Beomgyu says. 

“What about everything else?” Yeonjun presses. What about his actions that speak louder than any of his words? 

“Well,” Beomgyu says, scratching his head, “I don’t want to assume anything. I don’t want to put words in your mouth, past what you’ve actually said.”

It confirms Yeonjun’s suspicions. Beomgyu doesn’t know Yeonjun loves him or if he has even an inkling, he refuses to give the thought any credibility in his head. It shouldn’t bother Yeonjun, because it’s not like he’s said it out loud to Beomgyu.. 

It’s just—Yeonjun feels like he’s been so obvious about his feelings. Love is spilling out of him, like light through the cracks of his heart. Can Beomgyu not feel it at least? 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu tugs on his hand again, “Are we okay—” 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Should we go?” 

Beomgyu nods, though it’s with a hesitance that begs to say something more. Yeonjun doesn’t ask, because now is not the time and here is not the place for a conversation like this. 

Yeonjun holds Beomgyu’s hand properly and starts walking again to their next stop. He begins to worry that he’s made the wrong choice about holding off on saying, _I love you._ Maybe it has to be uttered out loud for it to be heard. 

The thought of it makes him a little bit more quiet, and it leaves Beomgyu with the task of filling the silence. 

Yeonjun does his best to nod and say the right things, but he knows Beomgyu can tell that he’s bothered by something. It’s evident in the way Beomgyu presses close, holding onto his arm like he’s worried Yeonjun might let him go, or when he glances at Yeonjun one too many times. 

It’s not right. 

Yeonjun sees a cafe up the road and squeezes Beomgyu’s hand. “Baby, do you want to take a break for a bit?” 

Beomgyu’s brows raise in surprise, but he hurriedly takes the branch Yeonjun offers, “Yeah, why not?” 

The two of them order their drinks, Yeonjun with his iced coffee and Beomgyu with his iced tea, and go up to the cafe’s rooftop garden. It’s an unexpected feature of the cafe, but it’s certainly nothing to complain about. 

The cafe sits pretty high up in the village, and because of it, the rooftop garden boasts a spectacular view of Busan. They take seats at an empty table. 

Above them are clear blue skies. Below them is the salty waters of the sea. By their side sits sunflowers so yellow and proud one might as well call them golden. In front of them sits each other. 

"Yeonjun-hyung," Beomgyu says, his chin propped up by both hands, elbows on the table. 

Yeonjun copies his pose, "Beomgyu." 

Beomgyu frowns, and Yeonjun lays one hand on the table, palm face up like an open invitation. Beomgyu takes it immediately, “Hyung, we don’t feel okay.” 

Yeonjun looks down and plays with Beomgyu’s fingers, “I’m sorry. I kind of got stuck in my head for a little bit there. It’s our monthsary, it’s not right for me to be acting this way—” 

“Stop it,” Beomgyu purses his mouth, “What’s not right? You feel what you feel, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Talk to me, please?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Yeonjun starts to say. Beomgyu lifts his chin at that, ready to say something, but Yeonjun hurriedly adds on, “It’s going to resolve itself I promise.” 

“Can I know what it was about, at least?” Beomgyu exhales, “I don’t like being kept in the dark.” 

Yeonjun stares at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to repackage his worries into something that avoids his whole I love you problem. He lands on this:“I was just getting worried that you might be misunderstanding me and my feelings for you. I feel like I say a lot of things through my actions, and when you said that you hesitate to read past what I say, I just felt the tiniest bit upset that my feelings weren’t reaching you. Like, you know that you mean the world to me, right?” 

“Oh,” Beomgyu’s lips part in surprise, “I...that last part. The world?” 

Yeonjun groans, resting his forehead against the table, “This is what I mean! You don’t know because I’m doing a bad job at telling you.”

Beomgyu says nothing for a moment before snorting _loud_ , “Hyung, come on. I get why you feel bad, but I thought it was something more serious. Made me really nervous.” 

“This is serious,” Yeonjun pouts, but Beomgyu just shakes his head, “You know, I think you’re great as it is, right? And I’m dating you for who you are. I know you’re not perfect and you’re still working through things. It’s _fine._ ” 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to retort, but Beomgyu beats him to it, “Just start telling me then. If you feel like I’m missing something, just say it. I don’t want to assume—” 

_“Assume,”_ Yeonjun manages to cut in. “You keep saying that. You said that yesterday too, when we were talking about travel plans. And you said that earlier too. I get avoiding misunderstandings, but some things are obvious—” 

“No,” Beomgyu frowns, “Some things aren’t as obvious as you make it sound to be. You know what happened the last time I assumed things? That whole mess in the spring.” 

Beomgyu tries to pull back his hand, but Yeonjun doesn’t let him. He pulls it close and cradles it in between both of his hands, “I understand. Trust me, when I say that I get what you mean by that. We’ve both become careful in our own separate ways. And I hear you,” Yeonjun swallows, “I’m telling you now that you’re allowed to assume your place in my life. That’s what you’re cautiously avoiding, right?” 

Beomgyu sighs, “Yeah, I just don’t want to overstep. I’m trying to go at your pace.” 

It keeps leading back to the fact that Beomgyu doesn’t know that Yeonjun loves him. Yeonjun doesn’t want to rehash the past anymore. He knows that the only way past this is forward. 

Earnestly, Yeonjun says, “You’re not overstepping anything. If you’re trying to go at my pace, then do it accurately. I’m much further ahead than you think, and what’s happening is you’re putting yourself a couple paces behind where you actually are. Which you should know is right beside me.” 

Yeonjun looks down at Beomgyu’s hand and leans down to press a kiss at the center of his palm. 

“There’s so much that I keep in my head, and I think it’s been a mistake to not tell you,” Yeonjun admits. He lists almost everything: “Sometimes, I wish you were just small enough to put in my pocket, so I can take you everywhere. I would do all sorts of things just to please you all the time. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes for one second, because I really can’t bear the thought that you don’t understand how beautiful you are.” 

Beomgyu can barely move, can barely look away or breathe as Yeonjun spills his heart out. 

Yeonjun nods, almost to himself, “You don’t have to say anything. I thought that maybe you could read between the lines, but I understand the importance of saying it out loud. I’m sorry.” 

"I didn’t know it was to that point," Beomgyu mumbles, turning his hand over to trace figures on Yeonjun’s palm. 

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun exhales. He feels suddenly annoyed at himself, “You know what? I started this weird mood and now I’m ending it.” 

"You’re fine," Beomgyu says with a pout.

Yeonjun lets him keep playing with his hand, even as he leans over the table to kiss Beomgyu’s pout away. “Let’s move on. I really feel like I made this into a bigger deal than it should be. It’s normal to miss things sometimes, right? Our relationship isn’t perfect, but we’re working on it and trying our best and—it’s our monthsary?!” 

“It’s our monthsary,” Beomgyu repeats with the hint of a smile. 

“Yes, it is,” Yeonjun nods, “So give me a full smile, my baby. I can’t bear to see you like this.” 

Beomgyu gives him a soft smile, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Yeonjun can’t help but sigh, “There he is. The boy who puts the moon to shame.” 

“Alright, alright,” Beomgyu begins to stand up, covering his ears that are surely red, “Even if you mean it, I can’t let you be this cheesy in public.”

Yeonjun laughs, grabbing his drink, “Yes, let’s go.” 

The rest of their time at Gamcheon Cultural Village goes smoothly, as the two of them put their discussion behind them. It lives in the back of Yeonjun’s head, but Beomgyu seems to have completely moved past it when he sees this statue of the Little Prince and his fennec fox friend. 

"I love the Little Prince!" Beomgyu says, running up to the statue to hug it. His joy is pure like a child’s. "Hyung, take my picture?"

"Sure," Yeonjun says, pulling out his phone and angling it to take a shot. 

"Wait, wait, wait," Beomgyu stops him and points to a different spot, "Can you take it from there, I think the angle will be better.” 

Yeonjun can only laugh, "Yes, let me do that." 

He moves to the spot Beomgyu has asked him to and watches as Beomgyu cuddles up to the statue of his favorite character, like it's his boyfriend. Throws up a peace sign and everything.

He is so cute. 

Yeonjun snaps a couple pics for him and hopes it's good. "Alright," Yeonjun says, going up to Beomgyu and showing him. 

"Oh!" Beomgyu says as he reviews them, "These are nice. Thank you. Wallpaper-material." 

Yeonjun looks at him, "Are you really replacing me with that?" 

"Ah, hyung," Beomgyu wrapping his arms around Yeonjun's waist, "Don't be jealous. He's my wallpaper, but you're the one in my heart. It’s not even close to the same.” 

"Yeah?" Yeonjun asks, puckering his mouth. 

Beomgyu kisses him, short tiny pecks. "Yeah."

They continue on from there, taking lots of pictures in between. They take cool sartorial shots while sitting on staircases painted to look like books. They take cute, silly ones against random walls. Yeonjun makes Beomgyu take one specifically in front of this large sculpture of a guitar. 

Yeonjun knows a good day isn't measured by how many good pictures one takes, but he wants many so that when he looks back on it someday, he can look at each picture, with Beomgyu beside him, and say, _look, babe, we were already so happy, even then._

Pictures are certainly one way to transport a feeling through time. 

Their last stop on the map provides another. 

They end their journey at a humble post office near the village's exit, where it invites them to write a letter to any person two years from now. 

"Should we write them to each other?" Beomgyu asks as they step inside. 

Before Yeonjun could answer, one of the staff members organizing the letters comments, "I wouldn't recommend that, actually. Unless you're family, it can get pretty messy in the future. You might not even be together then." 

Beomgyu is taken aback by that, and honestly, Yeonjun is pretty offended on behalf of both of them. Who does this person think they are? 

The person shrugs, "I don't mean anything personal about it. I've seen letters get sent back here and it's usually due to that. More meaningful if you send it to your future self actually." 

"I think," Yeonjun putting his arm around Beomgyu, "we'll take our chances." 

"Okay then. One other thing, send it to a reliable address. Don't send it to a place you won't be living at after two years." The staff member says, unaffected, before going back to his work. 

"Ignore him," Yeonjun says, grabbing paper, envelopes, and pens for them. "If you don't want to write to me, you don't have to. But I think it would be cool to write them to each other. I'll write mine to Future you." 

Beomgyu grabs a pen and paper from him, "You will?" 

"Yeah, I believe in us," Yeonjun says, full of confidence, "Also, I have so much to say to Future Beomgyu. I hope he’s doing well.” 

Beomgyu hums in thought, "Two years is a long time. I'll have graduated from uni too. I wonder where I'll be." Beomgyu makes a face, "That's kind of scary to think of." 

"Yeah, two years ago you were about to enter university." Yeonjun reminds him. 

"Yeah, I didn't even know you then," Beomgyu marvels. "Don't think past me could have predicted this." 

"In a good way, right?" Yeonjun teases with a glance. 

"Definitely," Beomgyu chuckles. "So who knows where I'll be two years from now." 

"I'll try to be more creative than past you," Yeonjun says, beginning to write. _"Dear Top Producer of South Korea..."_

"Don't write that—" Beomgyu tries to stop him from writing, but Yeonjun quickly moves away, "Why not? It could come true." 

"Future me is going to laugh at you," Beomgyu threatens. 

"I bet Future _me_ is going to laugh at you ," Yeonjun says, "Bet I'll be sitting right beside you reminding you how you doubted past me.” 

"Sure, I'll read it out loud to you, so you hear exactly how ridiculous you sound." Beomgyu says, "I guess I might as well write to Future you. _Dear Senior Citizen Choi Yeonjun..."_

"Okay, I'm actually going to write a serious message to Future Beomgyu, can you move away?" Yeonjun shoos him. 

"I'm gonna end up reading it in the future anyway," Beomgyu complains but complies. 

"Yeah, but this message is for Future you. So you're not allowed to read it early." Yeonjun peeks at Beomgyu, who copies his words in a mocking way. Yeonjun chuckles as he focuses back on writing his letter. 

_To the Top Producer of South Korea,_

_You looked so cute just now when I told you that you weren't allowed to look at my letter. I bet you look cute right now too reading this letter. You'd probably hit me and complain about how I never miss an opportunity to flirt with you. But it's only because you deserve to be to be told you're cute over and over again._

_It's our fourth monthsary today, which means when you read this it'll be two years and four months since we've gotten together. We were warned against writing to each other, because of the possibility that we might be broken up by then. But I don't think that'll happen to us. I think we're building something good here, good enough to last for a while. How long? The realistic part of me wants to take it day by day and refuses to put down a time. The dreamer says, the rest of our lives._

_You make me so happy, that's something I told you last night, and you said it back to me. I hope that's still true. I don't know where the road will take us in the future, but by then, I'll be a year out of uni, right? And you'll have graduated too? I hope one of us will be brave enough to suggest living together. I think that’s something I’ll want soon enough, and I hope that’s something you want too._

_I can imagine us in a small one bedroom apartment in Seoul. I’d let you decorate it, since you have such nice taste. I’m picturing lots of plants and pictures of us on our walls. I think I want to adopt a cat, but I feel like you’d convince me to get a dog instead. I have this vision of us being that couple that hosts dinners for our friends every weekend. Wouldn’t that be so sweet?_

_Anyway, you're looking at me weird, probably because I'm writing a lot, but I just wanted to say: I love you. I love you a whole lot. I haven't told you yet, but I'm going to tonight. I'm nervous but mostly excited. I've been doing my best to keep it in, but every time you do something sweet, I have to bite my tongue. It's so hard not to say it, but it’s okay. I don't have to hold back much for long._

_I love you. It feels good to say it, even if it's to a future version of you. The circumstances doesn't make it any less true. I love you, I love you, I love you._

Yeonjun signs his name and immediately folds it and puts it in the envelope. 

"Finally," Beomgyu says, "Were you writing an essay, hyung?" 

"I just had a lot to say to Future Beomgyu," Yeonjun seals the envelope. "I hope you wrote a lot to Future me too. If it's just two sentences, I feel like you should reconsider and add more." 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "Don't worry, I wrote a lot. I wrote about how annoying you are—" 

"Suuuuuure," Yeonjun is certain he wrote something equally as sappy. This is the boy who wrote him a song. "Also, I think we should send this to our parents’ house, maybe? I'm not sure what mine and Soobin's rooming situation will be at the end of the year. Do you wanna write yours on mine, and then I'll write mine on yours?" 

"Good idea," Beomgyu says, handing him his envelope. 

After they're done writing their respective parents' addresses, they finally drop it in the appropriate box and collect the last stamp. 

The annoying staff member stops them again before they get a chance to leave, "The prize for collecting all the stamps are two free postcards." 

"Oh nice," Beomgyu says, taking their stamp-filled maps over to him. He’s handed the postcards; one is an aerial view of Gamcheon Cultural Village and the other is a picture of the Little Prince and his fennec fox friend.

Beomgyu hands him the former, "You can have this one, hyung." 

"How did I know?" Yeonjun mutters, taking the postcard from him "It's fine, I'm gonna give them to Appa anyway. He collects postcards." 

"It all works out then," Beomgyu says, putting the postcard in his tiny backpack. 

Yeonjun pats down a stray piece of hair on the side of Beomgyu's head, "Do you still want your taro milk tea boba?" 

"Do you think it'll be a bad idea? I already had tea earlier and coffee this morning," Beomgyu asks. 

"Taro milk tea doesn't have caffeine though," Yeonjun says. And then he grins, teasing, "Even if it did, it'll be good. That way you can stay up late." 

Beomgyu eyes his neck, clearly thinking about it. "Don't think I need caffeine for that." 

"No?" 

Beomgyu shakes his head, "Nah. The sight of you keeps me awake." 

Yeonjun lets out a whistle at that, clutching his heart, "Man, where was the warning for that?" 

Beomgyu laughs, grabbing his hand, "No warnings. This is what you signed up for when you asked me out." 

"Yes," Yeonjun wholeheartedly agrees. "This is the relationship I happily walked into." 

And he's never walking out of it. 

Yeonjun fulfills his promise, buying Beomgyu the taro milk tea boba his heart desires. He gets a mango green tea with tiny little star-shaped mango flavored jelly for himself. Together, the two of them and their drinks walk around the gift shops in the area. 

Yeonjun easily finds more postcards for his father. It takes a little more time to find a souvenir for his mother, but they find success at a perfume section of this random store. This success only comes after they try about twenty different kinds on their own bodies. Beomgyu smells like an odd mix of citrus fruits on one side and a cross between baby powder and roasted marshmallows on the other. Even a dog would be confused at what Beomgyu was if it were to smell him. 

Yeonjun finds a perfume that smells like peaches and spring flowers and it reminds him enough of how his mother smells when she's going out that he purchases it. He briefly contemplates buying this other perfume for Beomgyu. It smells like the rain and fresh laundry, a scent Yeonjun wants to sink into on days too dark. But he decides against it for this singular selfish thought—he loves it when Beomgyu smells like him the best. 

For Soobin, the two of them buy two different fridge magnets, which is hilariously impersonal considering it's most likely going to their shared fridge in Seoul. Yeonjun had suggested they buy him a sweatshirt or something, but Beomgyu said no. Soobin wouldn't even wear it, Beomgyu had said. 

Beomgyu ends up buying a fridge magnet for his house too and four different variations of the "I ❤️ Busan" shirts. When Yeonjun asks _why_ , Beomgyu says it would be funny to force his Hyunwoo-hyung in it. It’s no wonder Beomgyu gets throttled at home. 

They spend the rest of their day just walking around and window shopping. It's fun to hold hands and walk the streets like this: holding each other tight on crosswalks, opening doors for each other, and sharing secret smiles across rooms. It's not much but there's something about doing nothing that feels like everything because it's with someone you love. 

Before they realize it, it's time for dinner. 

They arrive at this small restaurant that overlooks the sea. It's popular enough to warrant reservations, which Yeonjun barely got and only secured with the luck of somebody cancelling theirs. 

They're seated right by the window and in the window of time between day and night. Blessed by golden hour, even for a brief moment. 

The restaurant is dim except for that light and the lit candles sprinkled around the restaurant. 

"This is so romantic," Beomgyu teases as he grabs a menu, "Probably the most romantic dinner we've had." 

Yeonjun chuckles, "It's our four months. We should be leveling up in some way." 

"I like it," Beomgyu says, his hand reaching for Yeonjun's across the table. 

"Good," Yeonjun says, meeting Beomgyu's hand in the middle. "I'm trying to come up with different things we can do for our dates too." 

Beomgyu says, "You don't have to. I like it even when we just stay in and watch a movie." 

"I know," Yeonjun says, "I like it when it's like that too. I like it when we do nothing, but I don't know. I like trying new things. Keep things exciting." 

"I feel like people don't really think I'm adventurous," Beomgyu says, while looking at the menu. "Probably because of the way I eat, but I like trying new things too. That's why I've been telling you and Soobin that we should try doing new things once we're all back in Seoul."

"Well, make a list," Yeonjun says, "I'll try them all with you, even if the others don't want to come." 

Beomgyu gives him a sweet smile, before turning back to the menu in front of him. "This rib-eye katsu steak looks really good. What are you going to get?" Beomgyu suddenly looks up at him as he realizes, "Oh! Have I been hogging the menu?" 

"Nah," Yeonjun leans back in his seat, "I looked up the menu and the food reviews already. They said that rib-eye katsu steak is their best and most popular dish." 

Beomgyu smiles smugly, "How did I manage to pick their best dish? My taste," Beomgyu presses his fingers to his mouth and does a chef's kiss. 

Yeonjun laughs, "Alright, alright. What do you want to drink?" 

"Let's do beer, hyung," Beomgyu suggests, looking out the window at the sea, "I want to walk by the beach tipsy." 

It’s a fantastic idea, if not for Yeonjun’s plan to confess his undying love for him. 

Yeonjun warns, “Don’t drink too much.” 

"Why not?" Beomgyu pouts, "It's just beer and I want to cash in on the drunken makeout session you promised—"

“That what?” Yeonjun's ears feel _hot_. "Can you not talk so loudly about the stuff we do in private?" 

"What?" Beomgyu has the nerve to ask.

"People can hear," Yeonjun looks around and is thankful everybody else seems to be busy in their own conversations to have heard. "Besides, when did I promise that?" 

Beomgyu pouts, "So what if they can hear? Also, you said you would kiss me like that when we were deciding Busan." Beomgyu begins to fidget with his hand, "You know...in my room..." 

Yeonjun doesn't remember the exact words he had said, but he does remember mentioning it. In any case, he doesn't want to be drunk tonight and he doesn't want Beomgyu to be either. 

He wants them both to remember everything. 

Yeonjun leans across the table, taking Beomgyu's hand in his and kisses it. Yeonjun knows it’s not playing fair but desperate times call for seductive measures. 

Yeonjun watches as Beomgyu’s gaze settles on his mouth. “Baby,” He says softly, which has Beomgyu leaning closer to hear. “Look at my neck.” 

When Beomgyu lowers his gaze, Yeonjun smiles as he touches the hickey on his neck. His voice is wistful, “Do you remember giving this to me?” 

Beomgyu nods and Yeonjun nods with him, “Yeah? It felt good, right?” 

“Yeah,” Beomgyu answers, and Yeonjun has to bite back the pleased smile from showing on his face. Yeonjun continues, “So think about how good it felt for me. To have your good mouth on my neck.” 

Beomgyu breathes, “Yeah.” 

“Then think about how much being drunk dilutes the experience,” Yeonjun says, now that he has Beomgyu where he wants him. Hanging onto his every word. “You know I’ll kiss you so good. Wouldn’t you want to remember how good it feels? Hmm?” 

Beomgyu closes his eyes, leaning back in his seat and taking his hand with him. He grumbles, "You're unbelievable." 

Yeonjun laughs, but before he can say anything, their server comes up to their table, "Are you guys ready to order?" 

"Yup," Yeonjun takes the lead, pointing at the menu, "Can we get two orders of the rib-eye katsu, please?" 

Their server takes out a notepad and writes it down, "Anything to drink?" 

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu, who stares at him for a moment before sighing, "Can we have one Asahi beer and two cokes please?" 

"That's it?" Their server asks. 

"That's it," Beomgyu says, handing him the menu, and waits until they've left to grumble at Yeonjun, "We can share it." 

"Great idea," Yeonjun says, very pleased with himself. 

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "I hate the fact that I'm aware of what you're doing and every time I give in." 

"Is it so bad to give in?" Yeonjun raises a brow. "Should I be embarrassed too?" 

"Why would you be embarrassed?" 

"Because I'm just as bad as you. I shouldn't tell you this because it's a secret, but I feel like you already know," Yeonjun rests his chin on the palm of his hands, elbow on the table. 

"What is it?" 

"Sometimes,” Yeonjun begins to admit as he admires the way Beomgyu’s brown eyes look molten during golden hour. “When you look at me with your big starry eyes and pout at me, I think I would give you anything you want. I think I could bring the stars down to you if you asked." 

It can be embarrassing to say such things, but the need to let Beomgyu know it’s the same for him triumphs any shame. Beomgyu should never be embarrassed by how he feels for Yeonjun nor should he feel alone in it. Yeonjun feels exactly the same way. 

Beomgyu blinks, opens his mouth to say something, but just closes it again. Seems like it’s not just Yeonjun swallowing words today. 

They move on to lighter topics and before they know it, their food arrives at their table. The two of them _ooh_ and _aah_ at the cool plating that comes with their order. 

They each get a bowl of rice, a generous heap of salad, and several pieces of rib-eye steak katsu that’s still a little rare for both of their tastes in the middle. That’s part of the experience though. They both get this tiny stone grill and they’re told that they can further grill the steak katsu until it's to their preferred doneness on it. 

“I know we get beef all the time and get it grilled, but why is this so exciting,” Yeonjun says the moment their server leaves them alone. He immediately takes a piece of the steak and lets it sizzle on the grill. 

Beomgyu smiles at him and does the same, “It’s just different. Also, it’s because _I’m_ the one usually grilling.” 

Yeonjun shrugs, “You hate it when I grill.” 

“Because you burn it,” Beomgyu retorts, “or it’s undercooked. It’s fine if it’s beef, but we’ll get poisoning if it’s pork." 

Yeonjun purses his mouth, unable to say anything. Because, well, it’s true. He’s impatient and not picky, which are bad combinations when it comes to grilling meat. 

Yeonjun watches as Beomgyu uses his chopsticks to turn over his steak and takes that as his cue to turn over his too. He's delighted to find that the color is exactly what he wants it to be. 

Beomgyu notices, "Were you just waiting for me?" 

“So what if I was?” Yeonjun shrugs. “This is your area of expertise.” 

“I was just saying. I think that was very cute of you,” Beomgyu says with an endeared smile. “No need to be defensive, honey.” 

It’s hard to pretend to even be in a mood when he’s the honey of Beomgyu’s life. He sniffs, “Alright, just tell me when it’s going to be done then.” 

Beomgyu makes a noise of disagreement, “I should teach you. What is that quote? Teach a man how to fish and you’ll feed them forever?” 

Yeonjun is impressed, “Wow, have you been reading lately?” 

“Nah,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “I saw it in one of those cooking videos. You know I don’t read.” 

“Same,” Yeonjun says, “I prefer watching movies.” 

Beomgyu eyes him with a teasing smile, “Is that what that was about last night?” 

Yeonjun kicks his foot under the table and Beomgyu loudly yelps, attracting the attention of the entire restaurant. Yeonjun wants to die. He gives everyone a polite smile and a thumbs up, indicating everything is okay. 

“Why would you kick me that hard?” Beomgyu pouts, rubbing his ankle. 

Yeonjun checks the steak he left on the grill and it looks pretty well-done. He takes it off hurriedly and throws it on the bed of rice, “It’s cause I panic whenever you start talking about stuff we do in private. I never know how much you’ll say.”

“What would I even say? All we’ve done is kiss and—” Yeonjun force feeds him some rice before he can say anything else. 

“It’s just the way you talk about it,” Yeonju sighs, “Also, I’m saying this because I feel embarrassed that Soobin probably knows every single thing about our relationship. Some things can be kept private, you know.” 

“So?” Beomgyu covers his mouth as he chews, “He’s our best friend. He’s going to be informed. Also, if it’s because you don’t want to be teased, you’re lucky. Because while I was panicking about our trip yesterday, I texted my other group chat instead. With like Jeongin and Hyunjin—”

“That's even worse! Hyunjin knows?” Yeonjun asks with horror, slumping against his chair, “Hyunjin's fine, but he knows Daehwi who knows everyone. I’m never gonna hear the end of this.” 

“It’s okay!” Beomgyu waves off his concerns, “I told them it was a misunderstanding.” 

Yeonjun knows he’ll never live this down in the dance practice room. Those people are bad gossips. He gives up and goes on grilling his next piece of steak, “Can’t wait to be bullied at school.” 

“Stoooop,” Beomgyu laughs, “You are not going to get bullied. You look too scary to be bullied.” 

Yeonjun pouts, “A face like this? Scary?” 

“You’re super intimidating, Mr. Number One in the Dance Department. Especially when you’re concentrating. Jeongin said he wouldn’t want to get on your bad side. Taehyun calls it your resting bitch face.” Beomgyu says this with much amusement. “I can see why they’d think that, but it’s kind of funny considering how sweet you are.” 

“I am nice!” Yeonjun flips his steak on the stone grill, “I don’t like it when people think I’m scary. It’s better to be liked instead.” 

Beomgyu hums, “I don’t think you have to be liked by everybody. Soobin always says it’s no use being worried about people that don’t like you when people around you know and like who you are.” 

"I know that, but I don't know. I feel like a part of it is because I'm a performer, that I'm always aware of people looking at me and hoping they like what they see," Yeonjun thinks out loud, pensively dipping his steak in the sauce. "I don't know. Soobin would do a better job psychoanalyzing me." 

"He sure would," Beomgyu laughs softly, "I get what you're saying, I feel it a certain way when it comes to people listening to the music I make. You put so much of yourself in something, and you feel like if someone doesn't like it, they don't like you by extension." 

Yeonjun smiles, "You get it." Though Yeonjun can say _me_ instead of it, and it would still be true. 

"And," Beomgyu starts, placing another piece on his grill, "It’s tiring. Wondering and wondering if people will like it, will like you." Beomgyu smiles at him, "At least you don't have to wonder with me, though." 

"No," Yeonjun agrees, "Never with you." 

Beomgyu puts him at ease. It's like when you look at a starless sky but feel never alone, because you know the moon is close and always there. 

Their server interrupts them one more time to drop their drinks, which Beomgyu claps at. 

Beomgyu pours beer for both of them, placing a filled glass in front of Yeonjun. "I think we should make a toast." 

"Oh!" Yeonjun says, picking up his glass. "Are you going to start us off?" 

"I can," Beomgyu takes a deep breath with closed eyes before looking at him, with eyes full of affection. "Choi Yeonjun."

"Choi Beomgyu," Yeonjun says, full of affection too. 

Beomgyu giggles and says, "Hyung. I just wanted to say how glad I am we did this. This is our fourth time doing this, but it feels different this time. Maybe it's because we've been together for the past two weeks. Maybe it's because we're in Busan on vacation. I don't know what it is, but I love it. I’m so happy I feel like I’m living in a dream. I hope we get more days like this. I hope our fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and so on and so forth are as good, if not better. Here’s to us.”

Yeonjun can't help himself. He stands up and leans all over their food and kisses him. He intends for it to be short and sweet, but Beomgyu prolongs it for a moment by kissing back. Yeonjun has to pull back lest they get kicked out for public indecency. 

"Sorry," Yeonjun says, clearing his throat. 

Beomgyu coughs, "No apologies needed. I wanted it too." 

"We can continue later," Yeonjun says, grabbing his glass of beer again, "Anyway, my turn. I'm glad we did this too. I think it's different because of us. Not that our relationship was ever bad, but I feel like we've been taking a lot of steps in making it even better than before. And I love that, that you're as careful as I am about this thing we have. It's special because we make it so. So here's to trying, every day with you." 

Beomgyu beams at him, and they both clink their glasses together, saying, “Cheers.” 

They down their drink and laugh as they put their glasses down. 

"To many more," Beomgyu says quietly. 

"To many more," Yeonjun echoes—not with something as baseless as hope but faith. 

It's properly dark when they get finished with their dinner and begin their walk on the sandy shores of the beach. They eventually find a quiet spot to sit, and it’s empty enough that it makes them feel like they’re the only people in the world. 

Only the water and the moon bear witness. 

They sit there for a while, not speaking. Just listen to the waves crashing against the shore, over and over again. 

It’s Yeonjun’s moment of truth. 

Over the past few days, Yeonjun has pictured and practiced how this _I love you_ was going to go. 

He could bring up his gifts first and then after that, he could begin his long speech about everything he loves about Beomgyu. He could end it with his confession. He wasn’t sure if he should maybe apologize for taking so long. He was also thinking he could explain how he finally got here, ready to say the words. 

There’s so many versions of this confession in Yeonjun’s head and now that it’s time, he can’t seem to settle on which one would sound the best to Beomgyu. What would put the biggest smile on his face? 

He feels the way he usually does right before a performance. When his mind is running through all the steps. When his heart pounds so loud it feels like his heart’s in between his ears. When he’s scared that he’ll trip over and miss something. He’s worried he’ll fuck this up somehow. 

He doesn't know why he's so worried. Everything has gone well and according to plan. But maybe it's because this is the most important thing he'll have done the whole two weeks he's been with Beomgyu. It's probably the most important thing he'll say since he's told Beomgyu that he has feelings for him. 

_Maybe the L word too._

It’s not a maybe anymore. 

He's trying so hard to make this special, to make it good, to make it memorable. He's scared it won't measure up to his own expectations. 

As he's setting up his stage, as he's breathing the salt air, as he's preparing his heart, Beomgyu beats him to saying something first. 

Here is the world reminding him that this is not a performance. This is your life, Choi Yeonjun. 

"Hyung," Beomgyu says, pulling something out of his backpack, "I know you mentioned you had a gift for me, but I actually had a gift for you too. Bought it a while back after I realized our monthsary was going to overlap with your vacation." 

Yeonjun blinks, not expecting this at all. Beomgyu takes his hand and places a box on his palm. "It's nothing much," Beomgyu says, shyly, "But I thought of you. Open it." 

Yeonjun carefully opens the box to find a small gold necklace with a heart locket, "For me?" 

"It's kind of cheesy," Beomgyu hurriedly says, "I didn't want to be super cheesy, so I didn't put a picture of us or anything like that, but—" 

Yeonjun opens the locket and sees that the words, _I carry your heart with me_ , were engraved inside it. 

"It's from a poem I love. _I carry your heart with me, I carry your heart in me,_ " Beomgyu recites with a feeling so tender Yeonjun thinks he might cry. Beomgyu looks down and pulls a similar necklace around his neck. "I have a matching one with the other half of the line. I don't know, hyung. I just wanted to say that I'm here for you always. I'm here to cheer you on on everything you want to do and accomplish. I'm here for you to lean on when you're tired. I can be whatever you want and everything you might need. I can be a home for your heart. The way you are for mine. Hyung, I know I promised I wouldn’t say it, but just this once, I want to. I lo—" 

"Wait," Yeonjuns says, cutting him off with a desperation that threatens to eat him up. Yeonjun touches his cheek, "Baby, wait, wait, wait." 

"Huh?" Beomgyu asks, confused. “Do you not want me to say it?” 

"Just," Yeonjun exhales, presses his hand to his chest to stop the emotion from overflowing out of him. It's there pressing right in his throat. It's right there at the back of his eyes threatening to spill. He has to blink several times to ground himself, but it's hard because all he can grasp is sand. "Can I give you my gift first? I have something to say too." 

Beomgyu's brows furrow, touching Yeonjun’s cheek, "Darling, are you okay?" 

God, not another pet name. Yeonjun will not break down before he gets the words out. 

"I'm fine," Yeonjun swallows as he pulls out his phone. His finger shakes as he goes to his gallery and selects a video. "Okay, I had a whole speech planned, but now that I'm about to show this to you, I think I forgot it all." 

"That's fine," Beomgyu tries to smile to reassure him. "You can say anything. You can tell me the moon is round, the water is wet, and I'll cheer you on." 

It makes Yeonjun smile, though soon enough the nerves overtake him again. 

He clears his throat again and finally, _finally_ starts, "I've always loved music. Before I ever realized I loved dancing, it was music first. There's something about the beat, the melody, or is it the emotion? That just moves me. Pierces me all the way through. But I want you to know that no song has touched me as much as the song you gave me. Maybe it's because it's mine, maybe it's because every other song is a cause and the way I move to it is the corresponding effect, but this one, it's different—" 

Yeonjun struggles, closing his eyes again, for a moment, for a second, for maybe as long as a wave has before it crashes against the shore again. 

He hates how the words are just spilling out of him, sounding disjointed as they are. He hopes he’s making sense.

He restarts, pressing his phone against Beomgyu's hand, "Beomgyu, I think that a dance can be a love letter to a song." 

Beomgyu looks at him with wide eyes, "Hyung—" 

Yeonjun nods with a deep inhale and says, "And this is my love letter to you." 

And then he presses play. 

Yeonjun could recreate this song with his bare hands. That's how much he's listened to it. 

A song that feels like an afternoon in the spring. A butterfly landing on a flower. A bubble floating in the air. 

He listened to it so many times during the summer. His body moved to it without thought. Before he'd known it, he had unknowingly created a routine for it. It didn't take much to polish, which in the first place was something he hesitated to do. There was only one person who was going to see it, and while everyone is only allowed to see his best, he felt that Beomgyu should get the rawest parts of him. 

He watched it the other night, watched as he glided across the floor, as his hands moved through the air, and knew that this dance says one thing only: I love you. 

When the video finishes, Beomgyu is biting his lip, like he's trying his hardest to keep himself together too. "Hyung," Beomgyu says, trembling, with eyes that glimmer like the moon's light in the reflection of the dark ocean. 

There's so much Yeonjun could say. If he was good at speeches, he'd say them all right now. Between the two of them, it’s Beomgyu who’s the poet. It’s Yeonjun who’s always been better with actions over words. 

But these words, he'll say. 

Yeonjun cups Beomgyu's cheeks, stares deep into his eyes and says simply and on purpose, "I love you, Beomgyu." 

Beomgyu barely moves. It's like watching the world rise. The light hits first, which is only right because it travels faster than sound. 

His eyes are wide with his lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. His mouth moves like it's trying to form words that haven't been invented yet. His hands are trying to grasp something but like Yeonjun, there's only sand. 

"I love you," Yeonjun repeats, and that has Beomgyu grasping at his wrists. With a voice hoarse and deep in tone and disbelief, Beomgyu asks, "You love me?" 

"Yes, I love you," Yeonjun says, laughing wetly. He doesn't even realize he's crying until Beomgyu is gently wiping his cheeks with his thumb. "Beomgyu, I love you, I love you, I love you—"

"I love you too," Beomgyu says, tearing up too. 

"Oh," Yeonjun says, dumbly. It’s the sweetest sound on Earth. "Say that again." 

"I love you too," Beomgyu repeats, "I love you—"

Yeonjun kisses him hard, unable to take it anymore, though Beomgyu pulls away soon after, "Wait, can you just say it again?" 

"I love you, Choi Beomgyu," Yeonjun says, sniffling, "Do you want to hear it one more time?" 

Beomgyu nods, wiping a tear that’s fallen down his cheek. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Yeonjun will say it as many times as he can. "You're the light of my life. The moon of my sky." 

Beomgyu throws his arms around him and cries, "You! I'm so in love with you." 

Yeonjun holds him tight. Beomgyu hiccups, "I've been wanting to say it all day, and I almost said it just now when you stopped me. But it was so hard! Hyung, it’s been so hard not to tell you—"

"I know, I know," Yeonjun strokes the back of his head and rocks them back and forth, "I love you, you beautiful boy. I almost said it twenty different times over the past few days, but I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be here. I wanted you to hear it first and nobody else—"

Beomgyu only cries harder, "It would have been special no matter what. How could you hide this from me for so long—"

"It was five days at most," Yeonjun tries to say, but Beomgyu doesn't let him, "It's five days I could have been telling you nonstop." 

Beomgyu pulls away, covering his face with his hands and sniffles the whole time, "Like today at that cafe when we were talking. I was writing I love you on your hand over and over again, but you didn't notice. And I tried telling you last night too, but you didn’t let me. And then just now too. I was starting to get worried I wouldn’t ever get to say it anymore. Or you didn’t want to hear it.” 

"I wanted to hear it so bad," Yeonjun admits, trying to uncover Beomgyu's face and wipe his tears too. "It’s been so long since I’ve heard it out loud. Months. But I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from saying it if I heard you say it.” 

Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu’s reddening nose, at his eyes sparkling with tears, and continues, “I’m sorry I missed that this morning. But I knew every other time. How you said it so many times with your actions. You were saying you love me the whole time and I heard it. And I was saying I love you back with my actions too.” 

"I love you," Yeonjun says again, just because he can. He punctuates with a soft kiss. 

"I love you too," Beomgyu murmurs against his mouth.

They say it to each other again and again, like children who know no shame, like it's their first time hearing it every time, like they’ll never get tired of saying it and hearing it said.

They have something here that people rarely get to have. It's a real privilege to have someone to say it to. It's a wonder to have someone who'll say it back to you. 

Yeonjun has both in Beomgyu. 

Even after they leave the beach, they still feel like the only two people in the world. The two of them are too wrapped up in their happiness to care about anything else. 

It’s the way they can’t even wait until they’re in their hotel room to act like the happy fools that they are. 

Beomgyu giggles as Yeonjun presses him against the corner of the elevator. 

“Stop laughing,” Yeonjung says, though he’s laughing as well. “I’m trying to kiss you right now, and you’re laughing.” 

They are so lucky nobody is in the elevator with them. Or rather, people are lucky they aren’t in the elevator with them. 

Beomgyu buries his face against Yeonjun’s shoulder, “I can’t help it, I’m just so happy. Think about it, hyung. Isn’t this better than all the crying we were doing earlier?” 

“They were happy tears,” Yeonjun says, trying to get Beomgyu to stop hiding his face, “I want to see you, what are you doing?” 

“I think there’s a camera in this elevator, hyung,” Beomgyu says, covering his face with his hand. 

Yeonjun turns his head to look around and makes eye contact with a CCTV camera in the corner. Yeonjun can’t find it in him to care, but he raises an arm and rests it against the wall so he can block Beomgyu’s face from being seen. “I’m sure it’s seen worse. We’re not even doing anything. I thought you didn’t care about stuff like this.” 

“I thought _you_ cared,” Beomgyu says, finally lifting his head and leaning back against the elevator wall. 

“How can I care when the love of my life is standing right in front of me?” Yeonjun asks, using his other hand to cup Beomgyu’s cheek. His heart clenches at the way Beomgyu leans into his hand. “I love you,” He can’t help but say again. 

Beomgyu bites his lip, tries to hide his smile, before giving up altogether. Uncontained happiness looks so beautiful on him. “I love you too. I think if I die right now, I’m going to be okay with it. That’s like, how happy I am.” 

“Nooooo,” Yeonjun smothers him with kisses that have Beomgyu laughing again. “Don’t talk like that. Baby, we have so much to do together. You still have to meet my parents. Don’t tell me you’re going to dip like that after your brother threatened me.” 

“Okay, can I tell you something he told me?” Beomgyu doesn’t even wait for Yeonjun to say anything, just continues, “Before I left, he was acting so shady. He put his arm around me, which made me fear for my life—”

Yeonjun snorts, “He loves you—”

“Maybe,” Beomgyu says, dismissively, “But anyway, he was like, so you’re going to Busan...with your boyfriend...if he does anything you don’t like, call me immediately. I know how to get rid of a body. You can tell him that.” 

Yeonjun pulls back in horror, “Why would you tell me that?” 

“Because he’s being so ridiculous,” Beomgyu says with a smile, like he thinks Yeonjun would find it funny too. Yeonjun cannot. He has this sick feeling Hyunwoo isn’t kidding. 

“Besides,” Beomgyu says, “I don’t need to be protected from you. Sometimes,” Beomgyu fiddles with his necklace, the one that says _I carry your heart in me,_ “I feel like I have to protect you from the world.” 

When Beomgyu talks like this, it makes Yeonjun feel like he’s been cracked open and all the light is finally streaming in and reaching places that haven't seen the light in years. 

He wants to say that he’s strong, that he doesn’t need to be protected from anything. But there’s something about the way Beomgyu says it. There’s so much earnestness and honesty. Like it’s just how he feels, like Yeonjun is something small and precious and deserving of his utmost care.

Nobody loves him the way Beomgyu does, he’s sure of that. 

And when you have someone willing to choose you every day and love you like that, you don’t push him away. You don’t tell him no. 

You let him. 

“Take care of me then,” Yeonjun says, leaning his forehead against Beomgyu’s. Surrender can’t feel like loss when it’s this glorious. “I’m yours to keep.” 

Beomgyu closes his eyes and bridges the distance between them for a kiss that lasts until the elevator reaches their floor. And even then, they pull away at the very last moment. 

If there was someone waiting by the elevator, they might even call it a moment too late. 

Thankfully, there isn’t, though they both sigh in disappointment. Beomgyu says it best, “We didn’t even need to stop.” 

They stand there, ridiculous in their mourning, until the elevator doors close and they both remember the original reason why they were there. 

“Let’s go,” Yeonjun hits the elevator button and pulls Beomgyu out with him when the doors open. “We’re so stupid.” 

Beomgyu laughs, “It’s okay. I think I’d get mad at anything who tried to pull me away from you right now.” 

“Right?” Yeonjun turns to him, “We should put a sign on our room, so nobody interrupts us.” 

Beomgyu nods, gesturing with his hand, “ _We’re in love and busy. Go away._ ” 

Yeonjun giggles with a fondness so large it has him pulling Beomgyu to his arms for a hug. “You’re so!” 

“I’m so?” Beomgyu questions, but only gets kisses for an answer. 

If Beomgyu keeps being cute like this, they’re never going to make it to their hotel room. And as fun as it is to kiss in empty hallways, it’s a waste of a perfectly empty room. 

Yeonjun makes the executive decision for both of them. 

Yeonjun puts an arm around Beomgyu's back and another under the bend of his knees, and lifts him up. It has Beomgyu squeaking in surprise, “Hyung!” 

“Hold on tight, baby,” Yeonjun says with a smooch on Beomgyu’s nose. “This is the fastest way.” 

It is not the fastest way. 

They are stumbling through the hallways, giggling with every step they take. Beomgyu makes it even harder; he just won’t stop pressing kisses against Yeonjun’s neck and it slows them down even more. If Yeonjun wasn’t delirious with happiness, he’d be embarrassed by how winded he is by the time they arrive in front of their room. 

Yeonjun tries to put Beomgyu down, but Beomgyu clings tighter with a whine, “No! Carry me through the door. Like how married people do it.” 

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun agrees easily, "But you're going to have to open the door." 

Beomgyu gasps, "You can't carry me and open the door? What's the point of working out if you can't do both?" 

"I'm going to drop you," Yeonjun threatens. 

"But you love me," Beomgyu says, smugly. "And you don't drop people you love on the ground." 

"I do love you," Yeonjun kisses his little smug smile and smiles when Beomgyu tries to follow him as he pulls away, "But how am I supposed to love you when you won't open the door for us?" 

"Ugh," Beomgyu groans, "Fine." He pats around his pockets until he finds their room card, "Aha!"

Yeonjun turns them around, so Beomgyu can insert the card and punch their code easily. The door lights up green and they both clumsily push it open. 

“Where do you want to be put down, your highness?” Yeonjun asks. 

Beomgyu doesn’t even take a second to think, “Throw me on the bed.” 

“You and your fantasies,” Yeonjun teases, but doesn’t move, “We’re dirty, we were rolling around on the sand.” 

Beomgyu pouts, “Fine, put me down here. I’m going to shower fast and then you can throw me on the bed.” 

“You’re so silly,” Yeonjun puts him down, not expecting Beomgyu to be serious. But the moment Beomgyu’s feet touch the floor, he’s already moving away to go to his duffel bag. 

Yeonjun feels like he’s losing his mind. “Beomgyu, come back here—”

“What,” Beomgyu turns to him. Yeonjun knows what he said, but he’s the one that stalks up to Beomgyu and kisses him with a force that has Beomgyu walking backwards until his back hits a wall. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Yeonjun says in between kisses. “I love you so much, you stupid boy—”

“Stop trying to ruin my dreams,” Beomgyu manages to say, when Yeonjun moves on to his neck. “I’m just following what you said, but you won’t even let me go long enough to do that.” 

“Fine,” Yeonjun says, but not before getting another kiss in, “Go take your shower then.” 

Yeonjun takes a seat on their chair and watches as Beomgyu gathers his sleep clothes. It reminds him a lot of last night, but it’s different all the same. This time, before Beomgyu goes in, he stops by Yeonjun for a kiss that tastes like a promise, “I love you. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Okay, I’ll miss you,” Yeonjun says, grabbing Beomgyu’s hand again. “Don’t take too long.” 

“I won’t, my love,” Beomgyu walking backward and doesn’t let go of Yeonjun’s hand until their arms are stretched out. Beomgyu blows him a kiss and Yeonjun pretends to catch it and presses his fingers to his lips. 

Beomgyu laughs, finally turning and entering the bathroom. 

The moment the door closes, Yeonjun slumps against the seat and covers his face. He doesn’t need to look in the mirror to know he’s smiling like a fool. He can’t be blamed for it. Nobody can be in the presence of Choi Beomgyu and not feel incredibly endeared. It doesn’t make sense. 

Yeonjun is still living in his post-I-love-you high. His brain can’t stop replaying a supercut of it. 

Beomgyu saying, I love you too, with his sweet honey voice. 

Beomgyu helping him put on the necklace he gave Yeonjun as a gift. 

The two of them crying and kissing on the sand. 

The two of them walking back to their hotel unable to let go of each other for even a second. 

The happiness was bursting out of them like confetti—even random strangers weren’t safe from their public displays of affection. On the way to the hotel they had accidentally bumped into an old man and they apologized by saying, _Sorry, we’re just so in love._

The memories put him in a daze, a haze that only dissipates when the bathroom door opens. 

Beomgyu walks out with hair so wet the water drips down his neck. 

Yeonjun can’t help himself, “Beomgyu, did you even take the time to dry your hair?” 

“I’m not done yet!” Beomgyu says, grabbing the lotion he forgot in his bag, “I still need to put moisturizer on.”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Yeonjun stands up, grabbing a towel and coming up to Beomgyu to dry his hair. “You know I still have to shower too, right?” 

Beomgyu goes from hurriedly slapping his face with lotion to calmly patting it. “I understand now,” Beomgyu says, utterly deadpan, “that some dreams are meant to only be dreams—”

Yeonjun laughs, wrapping his arms around his baby’s waist and kissing his cheek, “I’ll be fast too. I can’t stay away from you for too long either. I promise.” 

Beomgyu softens, “I’m just trying to make you laugh. Take your time. I’ll wait for you.” 

Yeonjun turns him around, so they’re facing each other, “You will?” 

Beomgyu wraps his arms around Yeonjun’s neck, “‘Course. Now, for what I will do while I wait for you to do your beauty routine—”

“Oh my god,” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “Babe, I can’t compromise beauty.” 

Beomgyu cups his cheeks, “You’re stunning as it is. What am I going to do if you become even more beautiful?”

Yeonjun melts as Beomgyu gently brushes his hair out of his eyes. “You always get shy like this when I tell you how gorgeous you are. Makes me feel like I’m the first one to tell you. Which can’t be true, right? I’m sure people told you that all the time—”

“It’s not the same,” Yeonjun whispers. “It’s not. When you say it, it’s different.”

Beomgyu says it just to say it. Like it’s a truth that just needs to be said, like a fact that can never be wrong. Not like everybody else who says it in want of something. 

“Then I’ll just have to say it again and again to make up for everyone else,” Beomgyu says after a moment. Beomgyu kisses his nose, “Okay, I’ll let you get ready for bed too. I’ll put on some movie while I wait for you, okay?” 

Yeonjun thinks for a moment, before saying, “Actually, I have something else for you.” 

Beomgyu gasps, “Another gift?” 

“Okay, don’t get too excited, it’s not an actual physical gift,” Yeonjun pulls out his phone from his pocket and sends him something, “It’s barely anything. I just—music is so important to you, right?” 

“Mhmm,” Beomgyu teases, “Yes, one could say so.” 

“And I don’t know,” Yeonjun pockets his phone again, “I was just thinking it would be nice if I could write a song for you too, but I didn’t know how to begin to even make one. And then I thought about how back in the day, people used to make mixtapes as gifts—”

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu says, leaving the bathroom to grab his phone, “You made me a mixtape?” 

“It’s barely a mixtape,” Yeonjun calls out, following him out of the bathroom, and finds Beomgyu sitting on their bed and untangling a pair of headphones, “It’s like a playlist on Spotify—”

“My love, you’re rambling,” Beomgyu touches his cheek and Yeonjun sighs, sitting down beside him. “Tell me about it.” 

Yeonjun rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “They’re just songs that remind me of you or how I felt or been feeling about you. I’ve been adding to it one by one and I feel like it’s time you finally heard it. You can listen to it while I’m getting ready for bed.” 

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, “I’ll listen to it carefully.” 

Yeonjun kisses his temple, before grabbing his clothes to get ready for bed. 

When he gets back, there sits Yeonjun’s heart, right where he left him, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed. 

Yeonjun does his best not to startle him, calls to him as gently as he can, “Beomgyu, sweetheart—” 

“Hm?” Beomgyu opens his eyes, “Are you done?” 

Yeonjun nods, “What do you think?” 

Beomgyu smiles, “You put Free Love by Honne on this?” 

“That song reminds me of you,” Yeonjun pouts, “Remember when you played it for me on the piano that one time? I loved it.” 

“I’ll play it again for you the next time I’m near a piano,” Beomgyu says, taking off his headphones. 

“Still wanna be thrown on the bed?” Yeonjun asks. 

Beomgyu laughs, “Nah, let’s do it some other time. I got really tired all of a sudden while you were in the bathroom. Must be all the emotions of today.” 

“It’s those stairs, babe,” Yeonjun says, “Do you want to just watch a movie then?” 

“I don’t care,” Beomgyu says, putting his phone on the side table, and then crawls to his side of their bed, “Kinda just want to be with you.” 

Yeonjun joins him, lying on his side beside him. “Why don’t we do this? Play some music and just talk?” 

“I love that,” Beomgyu says, face squished against his pillow, “Play our playlist? You can play it on my phone.” 

Yeonjun does as he’s told and laughs when a Taylor Swift song plays, “Oh god—” 

“Hey! You can’t complain you put that one in there yourself,” Beomgyu says. 

“Peak romance,” Yeonjun teases, lying back down. “Reminds me of our unofficial first kiss.” 

“We’ve come so far,” Beomgyu says. “Literally. We’re in Busan of all places.” 

“Yeah,” Yeonjun lets the cheesy joke go. “On our fourth monthsary.” 

“It feels kind of silly to be celebrating four months so extravagantly like this, but I’m not complaining,” Beomgyu sighs happily. “Also, come closer. If I can’t put my cold feet against your leg, you’re too far, my love.” 

“Calling me my love while threatening me with cold feet. You’re unreal. I think that’s like the third pet name you’ve used on me today.” Yeonjun says as he scooches closer, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate tangling their legs together. 

Yeonjun smiles, “Is that better?”

Beomgyu responds by putting Yeonjun’s hand around his waist, before finally settling, “Yes, this is better. Also, I told you I was trying them out until I found one that I liked.” 

“Did you find one that you liked?” 

Beomgyu lightly boops his nose, “Yeah, I think I like _my love_ the best.” 

“I think I like that one the best too,” Yeonjun says. How could he not? It makes him feel like he belongs to Beomgyu and Beomgyu alone. “Look at us. Maybe this is why our four months has to be this extravagant. We seriously leveled up today. First time I said I love you.” 

Beomgyu hums, stroking Yeonjun’s cheek. “When did you know you love me? You said it’s been five days.” 

Yeonjun closes his eyes briefly, just savoring the gentle touch of Beomgyu’s hand. “That day with my mom,” Yeonjun eventually says, “But I wasn’t ready to say it until after the museum.” 

“How did you figure it out?” 

Yeonjun opens his eyes and shakes his head, “It’s a long story.” 

“We have time,” Beomgyu smiles. 

Yeonjun can’t say anything to that, because Beomgyu is absolutely right. They have time. 

He starts his story from the beginning, at the root of where it began: Seoul. He tells Beomgyu everything that has been living in his head. The conversations he’s had. The realizations that have helped him grow. Then he ends it here, right where they are: Busan. 

After that, they talk about what comes after. Where will they go? What will they do? The future is a blank page they can’t wait to fill. 

And they have so many ideas for it, which in turn creates so many possibilities for the future. It’s theirs for the taking, to have and to mold. Only one thing is for certain: in every one of them, they’re together. 

They talk and they talk and they talk until they have no more energy for words. At some point, Yeonjun has closed his eyes, slowly but surely falling asleep. 

Just when Yeonjun feels like he’s about to tip over to the world of dreams, he feels a soft poke against his cheek and his eyes flutter open to see Beomgyu looking at him, with eyes dark like the new moon. 

The lids of his eyes are heavy but the sight of Beomgyu awake is enough to keep sleep at bay. “What’s wrong, sweeheart?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head, eyelashes pillowed against his cheek, his cheek pressed against his pillow, “I’m sorry, I thought this was a dream.” 

“Maybe it is,” Yeonjun smiles. At some point in the night, the two of them have moved away from each other and Yeonjun wants to rectify that. 

Just as the ocean is pulled by the moon, just as Beomgyu always shifts closer to the moonlight, Yeonjun moves to where Beomgyu sleeps. He lies on his side, resting his head on the same pillow Beomgyu is using and curls an arm around his waist. 

This is how it should always be.

“I can’t tell if this is a dream or not,” Beomgyu murmurs, absentmindedly pressing a kiss against Yeonjun’s forehead. “My reality and my dreams are starting to look the same.” 

Yeonjun lightly giggles at his words, “Yes, baby, this is a dream.” 

“Really?” Beomgyu asks again, “Really, really?” 

“Really, really,” Yeonjun says to Beomgyu’s cheek, closing his eyes, and holding on to him tighter. This has to be a dream. How else could they explain why it feels like they are floating on a cloud? Yeonjun has to hold onto him lest he flies away. “I’m here, and even when you wake up, I’ll still be here.” 

“This is nice,” Beomgyu says, finally drifting off, “So many dreams you can get lost into and you found me.” 

_No_ , Yeonjun thinks, _I think we found each other._

In the morning, they find each other too—still in each other’s arms, like a dream come true. 

When the sun filters through their room’s windows and illuminates their small world of two, Yeonjun wakes up first while Beomgyu continues to sleep. 

He takes this time to admire his sleeping face and thinks about the beauty of this little life. 

Yeonjun hopes everyone could have this too: sleeping with someone they love and waking up to their face first thing in the morning. And if they can’t have it all the time, then he hopes they could have it most of the time. There’s just something about being so tangled with someone that one can’t know where one ends and the other begins. There’s something sincere about the way lovers hold each other tight, even in sleep, about the touch of someone’s foot against the other’s calves, and waking up warmed by a person whose brightness eclipses even the sun. 

Yeonjun hopes everyone can live a life this happy or find themselves on the road to one, hand in hand with someone that makes them feel less alone. Because if Yeonjun has learned one thing, it’s that we’re not meant to live alone. That backs shouldn’t break by holding all of one’s baggage alone. That hearts aren’t made to be hard and closed like stone. They are tender things made to be given away to someone whose hands are warm like hearths and whose bodies are homes. 

Because if one has someone like that, it’s easy to brave through the long winding road of the future. Endings such as this trip are easier to bear through, knowing this person will be waiting for you ready to start a new beginning. 

Again and again. 

Tonight, the two of them will have to board the train back to two separate places. But the separation doesn’t make him worried or anxious, like it used to do. 

After all, he has what everyone wants, love, and he has it with Beomgyu. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's done! if you've made it all the way to the end, congratulations!! you just read...104,000 words. 
> 
> there's so much i want to say, the first of which is relief. this work that gave me so much pain and trouble is done. i'm happy it's done and i hope at the end of this, you're happy too. beomjun are definitely happy, so what more can we ask for, right? 
> 
> the second thing i want to say is that, i've made this fic to move like the other half of "do flightless birds dream of flying too?" so if you have time, i actually implore you to go back and reread the original work. there's so many little things i make call backs too and parallels. i think it would be fun to look for them. 
> 
> the third thing i want to say is the number three. i'm sure you've noticed, but it's the special number of this fic as a whole. we have three chapters, three main characters, three mentioned locations (seoul, daegu, busan), three pivotal conversations for yeonjun's i love you (soobin, beomgyu, his mom), three floors in the museum, thematic discussions of the past, present and future, and the prose itself is littered with three's. i operate on the laws of threes. and from a narrative point of view, it feels so much like the manifestation of yeonjun's problem: saying the three most important words, i love you.
> 
> other things: 
> 
>   * the last couple of paragraphs is inspired by eileen myles' the importance of being iceland: “I hope you all find yourselves sleeping with someone you love, maybe not all of the time, but a lot of the time. The touch of a foot in the night is sincere.”
>   * if you would like a copy of yeonjun's mixtape: you can find that [here](https://twitter.com/lqbeomie/status/1340537416952786945?s=20). each song was selected with a scene in mind, you all can have fun guessing which is which. though i placed it almost in order haha. 
>   * do you ever wonder what beomgyu wrote in his letter to future yeonjun? i wrote it down and you can find it [here](https://twitter.com/lqbeomie/status/1350645715584749571?s=20)
>   * it was also very important to me write about a relationship where one person was inexperienced vs. the other. there's a certain insecurity that comes with it and i wanted to depict that. consent and healthy communication is also something i care about, so that made it through. 
>   * i was also very invested in writing an established relationship with barely zero angst, while still making it interesting. there's something deliciously complex about the trials and tribulations of a boy saying i love you. i think it's rarely done and wanted try my hand in it. 
> 

> 
> final words? just thank you for making it to the end. i had a lot of reservations about writing something this long. it wasn't really a choice for me to write something this long (would not choose it again, in fact), but it was what the story dictated i do, so i did it. i'm not sure how many people will enjoy this or read this, and i used to (a part of me still does) worry about how well my writing will do. how good the stats will be. but as i close this fic, i find that my love for it surpasses any worry i have. even if only one person reads it, i think i'll be proud of the work. it's my own views of love as of today and i'm glad to have captured it on paper. 
> 
> anyway, i'll end this here. please leave a comment, kudos, good vibes if you are compelled to. i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lqbeomie) if you need anything else. 


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